The Footsteps of Life
by GabrielleduVent
Summary: COMPLETE! The Meteor Crisis is over, and the Turks are slowly trying to regain footing. Enter Evan and Kyrie, the two hapless youths who are on a search of their own. These two seem just another set the Turks are to meet and forget, but with them comes the mysterious silvery shadows that reminds the squad that Meteor Crisis isn't quite over by a long shot... C'est la Vie sequel.
1. Prologue

First off: To everyone coming back, welcome back! I'll try to keep the chapters rollin' as smoothly as possible. To everyone who's new: welcome, and please go read _C'est la Vie_ at your convenience. This work will have references to the characters already mentioned in the prequel, so you'll have a lot better idea what's going on if you do. (It's long, I know, and some of it's boooorrrring, I know. But I can't write _Die Hard_.)

So without further ado, sit back, relax, and enjoy the show.

Prologue

_If there's anything you want, anything at all,  
__Come to me... I'll be your guardian angel._

-Inscription found on the statue of the angel in Midgar Edge

* * *

Midgar was no more; the planet itself had seen to it, as if it wished to mete out punishment to the city which had been arrogant to rise so high and mighty, above the nature's orders. The tall buildings had crumbled, leaving a jagged skyline to anyone who dared trespass into the wasteland, where once a million people had lived and breathed, forming an oddly misshapen pyramid with Rufus Shinra at the apex.

Renaldo Miller, age twenty-six, was not entirely sure if he had existed at the city's nadir, or close to the summit. He was not sure if it actually mattered, or if he cared. All he knew was that the city he had built his life in was gone, and despite all the grouchings and whining he had done - hell, nobody actually had _liked_ Midgar - the city so aptly named 'The Rotten Pizza' was the only place he had his life in, and to have it shattered to the ground was not a pleasant experience. Even now.

It was a cold morning, with fog obscuring the windows, as if blindness to reality was some sort of a blessing bestowed from the sky, but the sleep shoved the unborn reality a little too harshly for his comfort.

"No!"

His cry went unheard, and his fingers, extended, touched nothing but air as the image dissipated into the mist. There was no direction, just the white haze, and she kept appearing like a mirage, only to disappear when he got near. She looked sad, her face haggard, and when he had come so close to touching her, she simply shook her head and disappeared. If he could cry, he would, but no tears would come out, and the hollowness in his stomach just got bigger and bigger, as if it was a black hole that was growing, threatening to swallow him up…

With a gasp, the redhead woke up, felt the chill of the cold air against his shoulder, and rolled over, reaching for his… his what? He wasn't sure of this either, needless to say, the woman who occupied the spot next to him had a complicated relationship with him that went beyond and over the boundaries of a romantic relationship. Camaraderie, affection, hatred, annoyance, and everything in between lay between them, like a heavily seasoned stew with so many ingredients no one quite knew what to call it.

He opened his eyes in dismay when he realised the spot was… empty. The coverlet had settled down long ago, telling him the occupant of the bed had left its comfort some time before, leaving him to his slumber. The sheets under it had gone cold, and when he looked beyond the bed and to the dresser, the clothes were gone. He frowned, trying to listen to the noise of the lodge, trying not to panic. The dream had not been real, but across the sleepy threshold between reality and illusion, this was a bit too much. He tried to concentrate, trying to ignore the irrational fear that she was gone.

The lodge they were occupying was one of the lodges owned by the president of the now defunct Shinra Company. Remodelled to serve the Geostigma patients, the structure was close enough to Midgar without being too conspicuous, and so the president - Rufus Shinra, age twenty-five - had decided to remain there, making the structure overlooking the hell his lair, his den, and his abode. Reno could not help thinking of it as some kind of a lair of a predatory animal, lying in wait to pounce on whatever poor prey that happened to come along. Regardless, the Turks had remained with Rufus, as if the company still existed; Reno had pointed out that he didn't remember getting fired, and the rest of the team had readily agreed. It wasn't like they had places to go or things to do, anyway.

Reno himself had taken residence in the new town being built, called Midgar Edge, or Edge for short, partly because he had wanted some privacy with his… undefinable other in his life who was currently nowhere to be seen. He really needed to come up with a name for that person, who occupied a rather special spot in his life, except that seat had no label attached to it. He usually referred to her as his mate, as _partner_ and _buddy_ were reserved for his best friend, Rude Richardson. But mate made them sound bestial. Elena, Tseng, and Rude occupied the other rooms of the lodge, and the largest room was Rufus's. Reno spent half his time here and the other half in Midgar Edge, a rather bothersome arrangement but the only one he could come up with. And that was how he was in Cliff Resort, sleeping way past the usual hour. They had come in two days before to take over Elena and Tseng's duties, who had left on some assignment that the three didn't know about.

There were noises from the kitchen. He rubbed his eyes and turned his head, then reached over to turn the clock so he could see the time. It was seven, an ungodly hour by his definition, but clearly not for the ladies of the house. Now to come and think of it, his ever-sensitive nose detected… nuts. And a toasty fragrance of something being baked. And sugar?

He decided to investigate out of a misguided sense of duty and curiosity, but also to abate his anxiety. He looked for clothes, found none, and cursed the weather for a moment. He finally found a T shirt he had been wearing, pulled it on, and then found jersey bottoms. Good enough. Running his slender fingers through his flaming red mane, he ambled toward the kitchen, where it was already bright, warm, and definitely in service.

"Hey, ladies," he yawned, "what in the gods' name possessed you two to… do whatever you're doing?"

The blonde woman opened her mouth to protest, but the taller woman merely raised her dark eyebrow. "Morning, Reno," said his mate. She really had the eyebrow-arching down to an art form. "It's nine-thirty."

"No, it's not. The clock said seven."

"That would be because the clock's out of batteries and you didn't bother doing anything about it," said the woman. "But since when was punctuality your strong point?"

He looked at her sourly. She could be a real kitten when there was no one else around - all sidelong glances, pouts, and her every gesture asking him to, well, show her his affection - but as soon as someone walked into the room, she turned into an ice queen. Arien was like that, but he had recently begun to learn that this was because she was extremely reserved and shy about the fact that she liked him, not some evil ploy to get his attention. Not that it helped. If they had been in bed together this very moment, she'd be throwing her arms around his neck and pouting for a kiss. But now, she stood, ramrod straight, her eyes filled with disapproval. Where did that lovable creature go, every time someone else came in? Did she just evaporate with a poof, only to be replaced by this robot?

"Reno, if you have nothing to do, please get out of the way," came the voice, and he paid attention back to the kitchen. He dodged out of the way as Elena bent down to open the oven, and his nose identified it as the source of the smell that filled the air. Muffins. It was nine-thirty and they were baking muffins. Were they crazy?

"Here," Arien said, as she pulled one out from the baking sheet with a pair of tongs. She put the muffin down on the counter, in front of where he stood.

"What's this?"

"That," she said, as if she was talking to a five-year-old, "would be a muffin."

He glared at her, but she gave a small grin with a jerk of eyebrows, then turned away. Her hair was growing back. He picked up the muffin and went back to the bedroom, biting in as he went. The nutty flavour spread in his mouth, sweet and soft, some falling onto the floor in tiny crumbs. He was going to sleep again. Maybe things would be normal this time.

Or not. Arien seemed to have other ideas. What seemed to be thirty minutes later, she came into the bedroom and flung the windows open. Reno groaned and turned over, burying his face into the pillow. "Leamme alone," he moaned. "I'm tryin' ta sleep…"

She sat down on the bed; his side, or so his brain told him from the way the mattress sank. A gentle hand touched his forehead. "It's eleven," came the soft voice. It was the kittenish Arien, the sweet, loving woman he only knew when no one else was around. He was starting to feel as if he lived with a bizarre incarnation of Jekyll and Hyde. He felt a kiss just below his ear and turned his head to see her face. "Good morning."

"Why were you guys baking?" Reno asked instead of returning the greeting.

"Rufus wanted muffins, and when he says jump, we jump. That, and I think Elena's trying to get to Tseng with food. They came back last night." She laughed. "An old tactic, but a good one. Didn't I get to you the same way too?"

"Actually, I kinda fell into your bed. And that's how we got here in the first place." He sat up, scratching his head. She laughed at his answer, but stopped when she felt his arms around her shoulders. He held her for a moment, remembering the previous year; he had begun dating her, then fought with her, lost her, nearly lost his life… it had been a busy year indeed, and he could only hope this year would be quieter. Quieter, as in, the usual Investigation Sector operations, not a big hunk of rock falling on their heads. That was a bit too much, even for him.

Of course, he should have known that hoping for quietude was a silly thing to do. The world dictated that those who sought adventure never got any, and those who wanted to avoid it always got them.


	2. Reboot

Guest - I actually read _Turks: The Kids are Alright. _I wasn't very impressed by the text, but they're canon so they'll show up. I've taken artistic liberty to, um, change Reno from the comic relief into something a little darker. I think he's enough of a comedian as we see him in the movie, and besides, he's supposed to be one mean, evil bastard who drops a plate on an eighth of a city population.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - I decided to start posting before finishing the writing, because otherwise I'd just dawdle and never get this posted... or finished. The outline's done - supposedly - and it just needs fleshing out, but Reno especially has a bad habit of running in a completely different direction from what I intended. So who knows where he'll end up.

Chapter 1: Reboot

* * *

Renaldo Miller, age 26, had a fairly tumultuous life. That is not to say he had a bad life; but he had far too many incidents to just brush it off as 'normal', not to mention the fact that he pretty much had everything normal people would want, but not quite anything that normal people had. He had naturally accepted this as the way of life, but his life had determinedly become more eventful after his 'mate', Arien DeVir, had entered his life in earnest. Of course, it was likely that it wasn't anything about them that triggered the recent chain of events that nearly destroyed the world, but still, it was nice to have some peace at last, and he was enjoying it. Being a member of the Investigation Sector, colloquially known as Turks, didn't lead to a very peaceful lifestyle. He hadn't joined by his own volition; he had been recruited, forcibly, without choice. 'Our way or highway' was the choice offered to him, which wasn't much of a choice at all, especially because the 'highway' meant the highway to hell. But that was how the sector operated, and he quickly figured that offering the choice was far better than being offered it.

Right at this moment, the redheaded rogue was doing some minor carpentry; it was technically just pieces to be put together, but it was still a chore, and so he sat, cross-legged, with a hammer in his hand. The new speakers that sat on the floor were blaring out the music, a heavy percussion and power chords. It had been one of the few CDs Reno had rescued from Arien's shelf. The speakers were new, and Arien had demanded for shelves if he was going to get speakers. He wasn't about to get her angry over something as trivial as that. He wasn't too keen on the actual task, but it was either building the shelves or working the cables out, and the cables resembled a woman's very tangled hair rather than any sort of a sensible system. So he had traded off the cables for the shelves, and now Arien was sitting on the floor a little away from him, trying to make the tangles into some sort of a manageable bundle.

Arien herself was trying to figure out how to link the speaker and player system to the computer without buying more parts. Reno had quite a few more shelving units to build; after he had unceremoniously moved into her new apartment, a few adjustments had to be made, and now that things were scarce, it wasn't as easy as before. She sort of missed the old apartment they had lived in, with every comfort money could afford, but she realised that her sister had probably slept in her bed. Which made her a little glad the apartment was not much more than a pile of rubble. Her sister had tried to steal her life and then use that as some sort of a jumping board to get into Rufus Shinra's good graces and possibly get hitched with him. That plan had the merry bonus of Arien getting kidnapped and tortured, plus the little yummy side dish of a smuggling operation and her friends getting fired.

Speaking of…

"Hey, Reno?" she asked without looking up. "Did you… um."

"Hang on a sec." He banged the nails into the back board. "What?" He looked up at her, but saw that her eyes were glued onto the chaos in her hands. Which was a dead giveaway that she was going to ask a question he didn't want to hear and she didn't want to know. Or, at least, that was what she thought.

"What?" he repeated. "C'mon. You started a sentence. Finish it."

She finally looked up, put the cords into her lap. "Did you sleep with my sister?" she asked quietly.

"I er, what?"

"Did you sleep with my sister?" her eyes were dark. "You can tell me. I won't get mad."

"Really?"

"I won't."

"Um, okay then." He then grinned. "I never did. I actually noticed something was off when I tried."

Arien, who clearly was waiting for an apologetic, guilty yes, stared at him incredulously. "You didn't?" she repeated. "Huh. You noticed when you tried to sleep with her? How?"

He shrugged. "I wasn't going to say anything, but our sex ain't really on normal people's menu-"

"Okay, it can get a little off the hook, but it's nothing crazy."

"Well, that's what I thought, but apparently getting tied up and choked isn't what normal girls think of as a romantic night." Reno began to laugh. "And ef-wy-aye, I've only had that kind of sex with you. So when your darling sis started crying and asking why I was being so cruel, I noticed something was a bit off." He paused, then said, "did you?"

"Did I sleep with my sister?" Arien looked at him as if he was crazy.

"No, I meant, did you sleep with anyone while we were, you know…" His red mane looked a shade darker in the room, and so did his eyes, but maybe that was just the cast of his expression. His face was beautiful, with his slanted aquamarine eyes, his smallish mouth straight - an oddly serious expression on his face - and his gently sloping nose, a cigarette between his lips. The mouth that she had kissed so many times, and had expected to never touch again. The cup of coffee he was drinking from was on the coffee table he was sitting next to. Reno at least tried anything that was bad for him, for not much more than 'it's there to try'. The only thing he hadn't tried, it appeared, was whoring, both as a customer and a seller. Reno could pass off as a woman, if he so desired; there was handsome and then there was beautiful, and for whatever luck, Renaldo Miller happened to fall in the latter category most of the time. If he looked a little less aggressive - not the loud kind, but the quiet one of a killer - he would have almost looked effeminate.

Not that this fact stopped any of the female employees or her sister to stop dreaming about a romantic and sexual evening with the redhead. Ignorance was definitely bliss.

Oh well.

"I had to honey-trap," she said a little reluctantly. Reno's left eyebrow shot up at that. "After Mayor Domino was shot, the aerial got a little tense and I had to do a more close-range. Don't worry," she hastily added, "it was half a lap dance."

"But you still gave the bastard a lap dance."

"I had to." She picked up the tangled cables again. "What? Are you telling me that you never did a honey trap?"

Reno raised an eyebrow, but Arien wasn't watching him and so she didn't notice. "Nope. I don't sell my-" he stopped his sentence. "Well, there was this time a few months ago when I did sleep with a coworker, but it wasn't part of the job. The sector hates that kinda thing. And she got me into a shitload of trouble."

Bang bang, said the hammer as Reno nailed in two more. Arien did not take the bait, and returned to her work. Reno glanced at her; their relationship had been a rollercoaster ride that included kidnapping, deception, torture, and near-death experiences on both sides that left both in despair over each other. Even after the Meteor incident, it took all their friends to reunite them. Arien was ever expressionless, but it was a little weird to see her sitting in the same room as him, as if nothing had happened.

Of course, miracles happened, and their friends were well aware of it. Ivanna Flescher, nee Delassi, had married her then-boyfriend Zen as soon as things had calmed down. Shivvalan Belvedere had caved in and confessed his feelings for Felicita Turnley, who gladly returned his affections. Life-threatening experiences apparently made for excellent romantic moments. Except them, of course. Romance was a foreign concept; they needed each other, just like one needed oxygen and salt to survive. Now to come and think of it, their relationship had been odd to say the least; they had skipped all the fluffy tango time and had gone straight to the messy part of a committed relationship. They hadn't even begun in a normal manner; he had initially thought of her as a pain in the ass and she had viewed him as the biggest trouble in the building, with a capital T and in bold print. Had Tseng not relocated her to his apartment building - he had a good feeling he knew why, and it certainly wasn't to give him a girlfriend - they would have fought like a cat and a dog. Arien was complicated, and it had taken him a while to figure out that her initial aloofness and defensiveness to him was just a flip side of attraction. Even then, it had taken him a little more than what he had expected to get her… and when he had realised, the hunter had become the hunted as well, and that had gotten both of them into deep, deep trouble in the end. That had nearly cost Arien her life and Reno his sanity.

Well, it was all over now…

Reno glanced at her again. The sun streamed through the window, hitting her face just right, giving her the faint shadows the turned her face into a gentle mask as she concentrated on the wires. She kept blowing a strand of her hair away as she bent her head, her fingers working. He continued to watch, and Arien finally noticed. "What?" she asked.

"Nothing." He shook his head. "Just that…" a pregnant pause. "I've never seen you like this."

She put the bundle down in her lap. "Like what?"

"Calm?" He struggled to look through his somewhat limited vocabulary. "Peaceful." He shook his head. "I didn't really imagine to see you like this."

She shrugged. "We'd been busy."

Well, there was that. Reno reached for his coffee, and took a swallow. It was getting lukewarm, and with the heat, the fragrant aroma was escaping, disappearing into the warm air. He was dressed in a T shirt, sitting on the floor, and jeans. Arien said his clothes still smelled of the cologne he had used, although that bottle was gone, along with all the other possessions, in a pile of rubble. Maybe the fragrance had sunk into his pores and he'd smell that way the rest of his life. He didn't mind. It made his girlfriend extremely affectionate.

He finished the coffee, and placed the mug on the table. Arien still had her tea in little teacups and saucers - where did she get them, anyway? - but he wasn't that fussy about his beverages. And despite what she claimed, he still couldn't tell the taste difference between tea served in teacups and tea served in mugs. He wasn't much of a tea drinker anyway.

The track changed to an upbeat jazz, the beat thrumming through the speakers, and Reno bobbed his head as he worked. The phone rang, breaking through the track and jolting them awake from the silence as Reno put down the hammer and crawled over, then stood up and padded into the kitchen to get the phone. Arien paid little attention as she yanked the plastic-wrapped cable through the loop. She decided it must be a telemarketer, since he began his barrage of insults as he usually did with the poor telephone operators, sarcastically saying "what, you're selling your mother? Well, too bad, no one wants to screw a shaved boundfat" and cussing the poor caller out. But to her dismay, he choked on his words right after that, and then sounded confused. Just who was the caller?

The mystery was soon solved when Reno came back from the kitchen and proffered the telephone at her, as if it was a bomb about to detonate. She took it. "Who?" she mouthed.

"Your dad."

"Oh. Erm." She pressed the phone to her ear as she migrated away from the redhead. "Hello, Father."

"Was that young gentleman who asked me if I was selling your grandmother your paramour?" said her father in a collected voice. Argh. So much for her hope; Reno couldn't start from a worse footing even if he tried. Also, paramour sounded so illicit. She decided to tell her father off. "Paramour sounds illicit," she complained. "He might be illicit in every way and which way, but it's not like either of us are married."

"Are you quite so certain?"

"Father, it's not a honey trap. Unless he's really, really bad at it."

Reno yelled "I heard that!", and Myers DeVir chuckled.

"So, how are you?" he asked. "You did not contact me for a while. I was rather concerned."

"I've been busy," she said, while trying to think what to tell her own parent. The truth was, it had been nine months since she had woken up, seven or so since Reno had moved in, but Rufus wasn't giving them much time to settle in, which had made her lose track of time. She decided to go for the half-truth. "We're still settling in, Father, and I'm in rehab." Not a lie - Tseng had put her on a semi-probation, not really assigning her to missions that required stamina and strength. This left her babysitting Rufus most of the time, but the president didn't seem too keen to test his mettle out and cause her too much problems these days. Whatever the reason, Arien was usually just doing deskwork, which was fine with her. She had been a paper-pusher half the time in the Intelligence anyway. Corporations seemed to have an excessive preference to bureaucracy. She was fairly certain that if allowed, Shinra would have made its employees fill out five forms to use the toilet. And then make them do a write-up afterwards. Control to them meant drowning everyone in red tape.

"And are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Recovered." Her father still sounded a little irritated when she didn't understand his question straight away. But how was she supposed to know what others meant? She didn't have any psychic powers. She decided to let it go, and answered his question instead, but it wasn't as if her frustration would dissipate, as Reno had noticed when Arien picked up a combat knife on the counter - she had migrated to the kitchen, and his knife had been on the kitchen counter for no discernible reason - and she threw it at the wall. Reno ducked, knowing that it'll never hit him anyway. The knife went into the dart board up on the wall with a thunk.

"Yes, Father. Did you just call to check up on me?" She had given him her number in case of emergencies, but this did not sound like an emergency call. Unless…

Well, there was that. Arien hoped to every god that may or may not exist that her father wouldn't know. She knew it was her responsibility to tell him, but she just couldn't. During their assault on the Shinra Tower, Arien had been forced to kill her twin sister. A part of her didn't regret it whatsoever - their sibling rivalry had turned bitter many years ago, so much so that in the end there was nothing but hatred between them - but she also understood that for Myers, they were both his beloved daughters, and that he loved his daughters dearly. How on earth was she supposed to tell him what she had done? Her dreams were plagued with her sister's dead face, and it had fallen to her bedpartner to wake her up when she tossed and turned, her sleep disturbed by her guilt.

Fortunately, he made no mention of it, if he knew. "I wanted to tell you that I'm visiting Midgar," her father said. "Partly business-"

"Father, are you back to spying again?" Myers DeVir had been a former Shinra Intelligence member; it was some odd twist of fate that his daughter had ended up working in the same place the father had, many years before. Her former superior, Jane Whistler, had been Myers' friend, coworker, and a rival.

Myers chuckled again. "I am a bit too old for excitement, daughter. No, just to see some old friends and business associates. I wanted to see you and meet your partner."

The world stopped for a second as her brain tried to register what her father had just said. "Hang on. You want to meet Reno?!"

"Why do you sound so panicked?"

"Because… because…" Why did she panic? There had been no reason to, was there? But she knew why; Reno would definitely try to wiggle out of it. She had a budding suspicion that while Reno reputedly had a rather colourful sexual past, he hadn't done the normal courting ritual such as 'meeting the parents'. She'd have to make sure he won't run away. Was locking him up in a wardrobe until the date a viable option?

The conversation ended rather abruptly after that, and Arien went back, trying to figure out the way to best break the news. Reno was setting the shelf upright, seeing if it held any weight, but he looked up cheerfully as she sat down, then frowned when she didn't get back to her task. "Nice chat?" he asked, his tone light.

"Er." She had no idea how to continue. "Sort of?"

"What does that mean, 'sort of'?"

"Well, he's coming to Midgar."

"Cool beans."

"And he wants to meet you."

"That's grea- wait a minute. What?!"

"Hence my response, 'sort of'." She stretched. "And no, you can't make a run for it. He'll yell at me and then hunt you down, and he'll be suspicious. Buck up."

"He's gonna kill me, ain't he?"

"I doubt it." Her arms had cramped; she'd been leaning onto her arms for too long, and she illogically blamed her father for it. "Why? Did you do something to deserve it?"

"I know what your dad'll be thinkin', and it's nothin' good. I'm the fuck-up who's screwing his darling daughter-"

"Hey! First off, that's my boyfriend you're talking about, and second, the daughter actually likes the said fuck-up."

"-and the father's Myers DeVir! I am so, so screwed."

Arien was about to retort, then stopped. She reviewed the conversation quickly, and identified what had bothered her. "Wait," she said. "You know my father?"

"Oh, come on. Even I've heard of Myers DeVir, and your dad was before my time. DeVir, Whistler and Valentine, the star trio from the Intelligence. 'Course, they were all candidates to join the Turks and Valentine won out, but still." He groaned. "Damn it, I should have noticed when I saw your surname. Why did I have to sleep with DeVir's daughter?"

"I have no idea. You ask yourself." She looked at him, found his face beautiful - she wondered just how much of her affections stemmed from his face - as he scrunched his eyes shut. The gentle slope of the nose, the slanted eyes, the cynical smile just hovering in the corner of his mouth… Reno was dangerous, he looked dangerous, but some dangers had inherent beauty, and he was one of them. It pleased her to know that she was the only one who had seen the raw, fleshy side of him under the cynical facade, not knowing that he felt just the same for her, a sense of exclusivity that made one feel special. He was the most humane of them all, and that seeped out, even as he scrabbled to cover it up. And that made him even dearer. He was an assassin, but for some reason he had retained his childish innocence - not purity, but innocence - that made him into a little bundle of opposites that manifested in twisted ways.

But wasn't everyone in the sector screwed up in one way or another?

She belatedly blinked at what Reno said. "Wait, Valentine?" she said. "Valentine, as in, Vincent Valentine?"

"Yeah. Didn't you know?"

She shook her head. Her father never talked about the work he did, and she had heard about Jane Whistler and her father's friendship after she had joined the Intelligence. He had been a stern father to her, but a good one; a caring father who was concerned for his daughters, and was well aware of the dangers of knowing too much. Now that she knew how the Intelligence worked, she appreciated his silence, and his concern for her.

Of course, those sentiments were blown away to bits as soon as Reno opened his mouth again. "Hey," he said with a Cheshire grin, "do I get to watch your dad spank you?"

She started. "My father did not spank me," she huffed.

"Too bad then. Will he watch me spank you? 'Cause that's kinda weird…"

"You want to spank me?" But then she raised an eyebrow mischievously. "Well, I'd have to do something bad first, don't I, for you to punish me?"

Reno answered that he could think of plenty of things that she had done which would qualify as bad - most of them so minor and inconsequential that she didn't really think it'd qualify as bad - and she forgot her worries over her father as Reno went on and on about her infractions. But she wondered what other secrets her father had, and whether it would come back to haunt her in the years to come.


	3. An Unexpected Phone Call

I've pushed the update days to Friday. Hopefully this'll get more readership. Because... I'm an attention whor-.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - Myers will play a larger role this time around, and now that I have a little more info about Reno's family, that's going to play a role as well. I'm also trying to make Reno less of a goofball, since we'll have plenty of that in the AC sequence. I think our redhead might appreciate it.

Guest - I've decided that Reno's a nickname/codename for no good reason except I liked the name Renaldo. I've also built a more rounded backstory for him, but that's been in the incubator for... five years? Anyway, I'm trying to figure out a way to reconcile the killer and the clown that we see in the AC at the moment.

Chapter 2: An Unexpected Phone Call...

* * *

Things were a little slow these days, which the Turks welcomed. The town was slowly getting built, corner by corner, street by street; the Midgarians were resilient people, and they picked the life up where they left off and walked on, bruised and battered. The two Turks who had taken residence within the Midgar Edge were no exceptions as their lives got back into a routine - albeit a new one - and they got used to each other's presences again.

That did not necessarily mean they had gotten so used to each other that they thought nothing of it; Reno still woke up to find Arien clutching onto him as she slept, and she sometimes found herself entangled in Reno's limbs. Sometimes Reno would just take her without much of a warning, and she let him; she had a good feeling his intangible fear had grown during the time when she had been absent, and it appeared sex was one way Reno made sure she was still alive and kicking. She had a few alternatives in mind, but she didn't say anything about it; what was the point? And sometimes, she demanded him the same, because when the physical senses flooded everything else, it made her forget her guilt, of which she had plenty. And from the looks of it, Reno was having some difficulty keeping himself together. If sex allowed him to decompress so he didn't turn into a homicidal mess, well, what was there to complain?

And so Reno woke up one morning. He sneezed as the sunlight tickled his nose, then sneezed again. Arien was asleep next to him, and he smiled without knowing; her face was relaxed, and she slept peacefully, her arms thrown above her head in wild abandon. The morning light was sleepy as it hit her face, a white light that was almost like a mist that turned her naked body milky white, with all silhouettes and shading. He sat up, scratching his head, then reached for a cigarette. He really needed to cut down - not for health, but because supplies were still low - but he just couldn't start anything without a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Everyone, including Rude, disapproved of his chronic chain-smoking, except Arien, who so far had made no comments about it. Well, she was probably disapproving, but she said nothing about it, merely wrinkling her nose when he blew the smoke too closely into her face.

"Arien," he whispered.

Her eyes fluttered, and blue-grey orbs slowly revealed themselves, framed by dark lashes. "Mm?" she asked.

"It's ten. Get up."

"Mm." Her arms wrapped around him. But she made no move to get up. Which was very different from the Arien before the Meteor Fall, but Reno could not blame her. After all, he wasn't the only one who had lost all material possessions. While things weren't the primary focus of his life, nor was it hers, it was a good, visible measure of one's accomplishments, and to have that taken away was a serious ego buster. Bereft of everything she had built, she clung onto Reno desperately, and Arien in her depression was unnerving; their trek into the destroyed city of Midgar had only made her depression worse. And who could blame her? Certainly not he; that day, with Arien standing next to him, with paper snow and ash falling about them, he had felt alone, utterly alone in the world. The broken jagged lines of once a metropolitan city mocked them for their mistakes and their failures, like a patient purposefully showing the pus-filled wound to mock the physician. And he remembered the fires, the green light, the dark sky, just as Arien faced the past, tried to face the present, and felt completely powerless against facing the future. All in all, it was a destruction of a portion of the psyche. And while Reno - in his optimism - bounced back quickly, Arien couldn't. And so she spiralled into a chilling degeneracy.

In the morning light, her face was… well, it wasn't beautiful in ways most women were. Shivvalan was right, she wasn't beautiful as a female, that word didn't quite do her justice. But with her ennui and her hopeless look, she looked fragile and delicate, swathed in white sheets. Her dark hair fell onto the pillow, still shorter than before but growing. She had tasted powerlessness and viewed it as a weakness, which infuriated her, never mind that everyone was powerless at such a calamity. As a lover and as a daughter, she could see from the viewpoints of the wife, the daughter, the child, the girlfriend, and in all aspects she saw despair. Depression was kicking in. Well, it wasn't like she was the most stable to begin with. To numb the pain and to forget the regret, she desired him, and he responded, every time, unsure whether it was to balm her hurt or because he just wanted to fuck her.

Did it really matter?

Some days were good, her active and up and about, as if nothing had happened; and other days, like today, she'd want him, and he'd give it to her, a guilty kind of sexual play that did nothing to address the root of the problem. He was beginning to feel that she was using sex as some kind of a self-abusive tool; the modest, shy Arien, almost stubbornly proper, disappeared on this kind of days, replaced by a woman who was about as wanton as he could imagine with zero inhibitions. He almost envisioned her melting into goo, tangling into his being, slithering around him. And he felt as if he was melting into her degeneracy.

He felt her force him down, her lips press into his. Oh god. She evidently knew which buttons to press to get him in the mood, just as much as he knew hers, and she was pressing every single one of them. He felt himself stiffen in a particular area, and was about to convene an attack of his own when the phone rang.

He froze. So did she, and when he pried her off, she sat up. He reached for the phone and hit the button. "Reno," he said, his tone curt. He was a little irritated at the sudden intrusion. It wasn't like this kind of decadence was healthy, but he did appreciate her pliability in bed. He never knew when the mood hit her. Guilty pleasure much?

"Hello, Mr Miller," said the cold voice.

_Shit_.

Reno unravelled Arien's white arms from his body again. "Hello, Mr DeVir," he said, trying to be polite. This was awkward to the nth degree, partly because his body parts were protesting to end the call and get on with it ASAP, and he had very little experience meeting the parents of a girlfriend; it just so happened that his girlfriend was the daughter of one of the spy aces back in the day. And he was also pretty damn sure the man was out to get him, regardless of what Arien said.

Arien stopped trying to touch him at the mention of her father's name. "Father?" she mouthed. Reno nodded, then passed the phone to the said woman. "Here," he said. "I'm gonna take a shower."

Arien gave him a steady glare, but he pretended to ignore it as he headed out the bedroom door. He heard a loud "today?!" and then, "Father, why couldn't you- oh, yes. I'm sorry" which meant whatever argument that was about to begin, Myers had simply overridden her protests with a few words. Arien was good with words as she wasn't with her fists, but it was evident where she got her talents and that the daughter hadn't surpassed the father in that particular expertise. He ignored the murmur of conversation as he started the shower and leaned onto the sink, waiting for the water to heat up.

In the meanwhile, Arien was flustered. Today was the day off, and without plans it had been extremely likely they'd just do whatever that struck their whimsy. Sometimes they felt productive, but today wasn't going to be one of those days, and so she had a feeling they would have just lounged around in bed all day… until this call. That hope was dashed to the moon and beyond.

"So, um, you're coming today?" she murmured.

"Yes," her father said crisply.

"And you couldn't tell me this, oh I don't know, yesterday?"

"No. That boy would run off." Arien spent a moment trying to figure out who 'that boy' was, then realised her father must mean Reno. Well, that part was right; it was very likely Reno would just run off. He really was terrified that Myers would eat him alive. Which amused her; Reno, the Turks ace, the man who could kill a man with a finger, was mortally afraid of an ageing man. But then again, she supposed he had very little experience in meeting anyone's parent without getting yelled at or even getting shot at. And he wasn't exactly bulletproof, and he was sleeping with her. Never mind that it had been her choice.

"I do not know when I can get there," her father was saying. "Whistler-"

"Father, if you're going to remarry Whistles, please don't tell me."

"I am not." She heard a sigh over the phone. "I loved your mother, Arien. Can you just move onto someone else if your partner is gone?"

"Don't even mention it!" She barked. Losing Reno? No, no, no! She might have been able to go through it once, but second time was out of question. She had threatened that she'd off herself if he disappeared from her life again, and he had told her it won't happen. Which evidently gave him a sense of security that she was, in fact, now his. She had no idea why he needed that reassurance, but apparently he did, because he had become even more domineering in bed than before. She was pretty sure Reniel would have been scared witless if Reno had shown himself - in the most basic sense - to her. It wasn't as if he used whips, but there was something in his face that refused reason when he had her, like a ravenous beast.

Which made her into a delicious morsel, she supposed, ready to be devoured. She remembered she was talking to her father and blushed as she paid attention to the conversation. Even after seeing him so many times - heck, she had him in her, for god's sake - she sometimes marvelled at the planes that made up his face, and sometimes that made her forget the immediate task on hand when she was not on mission. Maybe not up everyone's alley, but it was undeniable that Renaldo Miller had a beautiful face.

"Arien? Arien?"

"Sorry, Father," she mumbled. "What were you saying?"

"Just how scattered is your attention during missions?" Her father demanded. "If it's as bad as it is right now, I have to tell you that you really need better focus if you want to be alive at the end of the day. Now. I promise I will not visit after seven, but I cannot give you the exact timeframe."

"Do you not know, or are you doing this to prevent Reno from bolting?"

"The latter. I will see you later, daughter." And then, there was a click, and then a steady tone that informed her that her father was gone. She sat down on the bed, and as if on cue, Reno walked back in, drying his hair. The contour of his muscles were visible as he used the towel on his head, and his underwear showed her where his leg muscles started. Well, Reno was a leg guy. If a kick could do it, he would never punch.

"What did your old man want?" He asked as he continued on his mane.

"He's coming. Today," she said carefully. Reno glanced at her, well aware that today wasn't one of her 'good' days. Her eyes lingered on his body a little wistfully. Yup, definitely one of her bad days. Today would have been just eat, sleep, and sex, not necessarily in that order.

"What time?"

"I've no idea. Before seven, he said." She stood up and pulled out a drawer to look for Reno's shirt. "You look mortified. He won't eat you."

"The last time I met girlfriend's parents, the guy tried to shoot me. And believe it or not, I don't like a bullet up my ass."

"I can imagine." She pulled out a black T shirt and handed it to him, then looked around. "Maybe I should shower."

"Yeah. You reek."

"Of what?" She asked curiously. Reno raised his eyebrow suggestively, then winked. She blushed. She couldn't really smell herself, but Reno had a nose of a bloodhound. Better trust him than her own sense of smell.

The hot water hit her body with good pressure as she shampooed her hair. The suds fell down the drain in a spiral dance as she washed herself, and she vaguely remembered her first time with him. She had been in too much pain to bathe herself then, and so he had to help her shower, but no more. Her body had gotten used to the entire ordeal, from the touches to the final finish, but she realised she was used to _him_ and not really to anyone else; she had no idea how other men touched women, and wondered how it felt to know another man's touch and to remember it while being in someone else's arms. It was pretty unthinkable to her.

She felt refreshed as she stepped out, and by the time she was dressed the funk that had strung its cobwebs had left somewhat, but she still missed the day's worth of doing nothing. Reno was making coffee as he smoked, the smell of cigarettes mixing with the bitter fragrance of the beverage and filling the air with the smell that she identified with him.

"Morning," he greeted. "_Light me up that cigarette and I strap shoes on my feet_," he hummed as he poured the coffee into the cup. "_Got to find a reason, reason things went wrong_," he sang as he turned. "_Got to find a reason why my money's all gone_."

"You drank it all. Good morning." She looked into the fridge. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"Dude, this song was my high school. Ska punk was all the rage. Um, Orange juice." Reno made a face. He really wasn't a morning guy. "God. Your dad's a piece of work."

"Hm?" She pulled the carton out and reached for the glass.

"It's like he knew we had today off-"

"He probably did-"

"-and wanted to make sure our fun time won't go on throughout the day." He took the glass as Arien handed it to him. "Honestly, though, what's so wrong with us fucking?"

She bit down a smile as she threw the grounds away and tamped in a new spoonful. "It's not like he's coming this very moment," she mused. "If you're that desperate, we might be able to get some time in." With a metallic noise the gasket holder went into the machine.

"Yeah, but he might knock while I'm about to come."

She raised an eyebrow, but left it at that, still with an amused look. There was a tired expression hiding somewhere within her countenance that Reno thought he saw every time she had her head turned, but he wasn't entirely sure if he was actually seeing it. Maybe not.

"So," he said, "what _is_ your dad like?"

"Father?" She was looking for a demitasse cup. "Strict. Well, no, not strict. He makes his own rules, and he sticks to them." She finally located the cup. "He was the ace of the Intelligence, so he isn't a thick person, if that's what you're wondering." She pressed the button, and adjusted the cup under the holder so that the dark liquid would fall into the cup and not elsewhere. "When I was… seven, I got some sweets from my neighbour, and ate them all without telling anyone. I guess I didn't want to share. Of course, I felt so sick at the end of the day I didn't want to eat my dinner. Father interrogated me and pried the truth out from my mouth before I even realised."

Reno looked sour. "I know where you got that mouth of yours."

"Oh?" The machine hiccoughed and stopped with a gurgle. "And where did you get yours?"

"Dad," Reno admitted. "Though he was always telling me off about it, ya know."

"Just because of your mouth?"

"Well, no. I got into a crapload of trouble. I still do, but I guess you know that." That was at her smirk. "My brother was the goody-two-shoes, and I was always the one getting sent to the corner. Guess that hasn't changed. I'm still getting sent into corners."

"By Tseng, maybe." She shrugged. "It doesn't really matter who gets sent to the corner and who doesn't, though. I was the one getting sent to the naughty corner too."

It was Reno's turn to raise his eyebrow. "Sorry, Arie, but I can't believe that. Your sister's a conniving bitch." He scrunched his face up in disgust.

"I can. How do you think she got out of being sent to the corner? Her talents didn't develop overnight. Collecting information and using them's my expertise, but weaseling out of trouble and deceiving people, that came naturally to my sister."

_Which is why I hated her._

Reno thought about it while Arien left to do laundry. For all that mattered, they weren't that good at not bungling things up, he guessed. They weren't good at avoiding trouble when it came to their personal lives. As an operative, he excelled at it - and brute-forced everything else - but when it came to the private part of his life, he seemed to be walking from one trouble into another. As soon as his feelings became involved, it was as if danger-evading instincts turned off…

His train of thought was broken by the doorbell. "Get the door!" came the cry from the back; evidently Arien was still doing laundry. Without thinking, he walked to the door and opened it, then hissed under his breath.

"Shit."


	4. and an Expected Guest

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - Never fear! I intend to finish all the way up to _Dum Spiro Spero_. The writing's coming along, but I don't have the "grrr!" sort of drive yet... looking for inspirations here.

Guest-26 - I don't think Myers'd eat him alive, although I do believe he doesn't quite approve of the redhead either. I can't imagine a father who'd be happy to see Reno as the daughter's boyfriend, and he knows it.

Guest - This is indeed the rewrite. Obsolete means out-of-date and no longer in use. I'm fleshing it out a bit more, adding a few subplot twists by the secondary characters, adding Kyrie and Evan, e.t.c. So it's going to look quite different.

Chapter 3: ... and an Expected Guest

* * *

"Hello," said the man who stood in front of him. Reno tried to regain his composure. Something about the man's eyes were oddly familiar and so distant at once that they unnerved him, then he realised the shapes were exactly the same as Arien's, but they were dark brown, which was rather disturbing to him. He reminded himself that Arien did, in fact, have brown eyes before the treatment, but he had never seen her like that, so his imagination refused to cooperate. With a mental surrender, he gave up.

Myers DeVir watched the boy be indecisive. "Will you be inviting me in, or are you still thinking it over?" He asked wryly.

The wry tone immediately brought him back to attention; the inflection, the tone was identical to that which Arien used when she was a little annoyed. "Oh. Er. Um," he mumbled. "Yeah. Come in." He turned around. "Arie!" He shouted. "Your dad's here!"

Arien's father noted the usage of his daughter's nickname with interest. He remembered his own wife calling her that when she had been alive, but ever since Eliane had died, she had refused to be called by that name. His elder daughter had been closer to his wife than her twin sister, and the loss of her mother had deeply wounded Arien on a level that perhaps even she did not know. But this redhead was casually calling her by that name, the name rolling off his tongue in an easy syllable with familiarity. For whatever reason, his daughter was letting her guard down in front of the redhead, rendering herself vulnerable without hesitation.

The abode was furnished in light colours, with just a hint of beige under every tone. It was clear that his daughter was the decorator, not her partner; from the looks of it, he wouldn't decorate any room in subdued colours even if someone hit him on the head with a paint bucket. Myers saw flowers in a vase as he walked down the corridor behind the redhead, a dash of vibrant colour in an otherwise subdued room. The way she decorated was so reminiscent of Eliane that he was struck with just how much his daughter resembled his wife. The place smelled of dark-roasted coffee and cigarettes, though, not flowers; that was different. The daughter was different from the mother, after all. The sofa was comfortable, and he took time to look around as the redhead hastily made excuse and disappeared. He was just looking through the newspaper when he felt someone enter the room, and looked up.

"Hello, Father," his daughter smiled; the smile was the same as Eliane's, something that, despite having the same face, his younger daughter never had. Myers finally smiled at the sight of his daughter as she sat down. "Bullied Reno enough yet?" she asked lightly.

"I did not bully him."

"He's nervous. I think that amounts to bullying in this case." She laughed. "He really is good to me, Father. You might not believe it, but-" she saw her father raise his eyebrow. "He really is."

"As long as you're happy, I suppose."

"I am." Her face brightened, and Myers turned his head to see the redhead come in. The expression on his daughter's face was so happy that he blinked, but then he noticed the redhead's expression soften, his predatory mien becoming a little gentler and more protective. He sat down, and the father realised that the whiff of coffee was coming from him. He lit up without a concern for the guest. Myers frowned at that, but his daughter seemed unmoved. She stood up.

"I'm making lunch," she said. "Do you want something to drink, Father?"

"Tea."

The daughter nodded and left, leaving the two men in a very awkward silence. They both knew why Arien had left the room, but neither was really willing to seize the chance and embark on possibly the most emotionally confusing conversation ever, so the two kept their silence. White cloud of smoke began to fill, and Myers coughed.

Which went ignored.

The clock's ticks were extremely loud as moments passed. Arien came back with tea, but then returned to the kitchen without much discussion. The white smoke got thicker as the clock marked the seconds, and Myers coughed again, this time a little more loudly. The redhead continued to smoke, his fingers almost mechanically carrying the butt to his mouth and then down to the ashtray. Myers acutely felt the redhead trying to size him up while trying not to be conspicuous about it, from the way he sat back in the chair but his head wasn't thrown back as a relaxed man's would.

Myers coughed for the third time. And his daughter's partner finally noticed.

"Oh. Er. Yeah." The redhead leaned forward. "Would you like one?" He felt around his pocket, and pulled out an extremely squished and deformed pack of cigarettes, almost entirely gone. "Sir," he tacked on, as if it was an afterthought. It was clear the man wasn't used to calling anyone sir, as the word came tumbling out, half-mangled. This boy probably was the type who constantly got detentions while in school; so different from his daughter, who abode by rules whenever she could. So how on earth did those two get along?

"I don't smoke," Myers said. "Thank you for the offer, however."

The redhead shrugged. A peace offering was made, and the fact of it was acknowledged, regardless of its acceptance. The redhead had made a move. It was Myers' turn.

"You know tobacco isn't good for you," Myers warned as the redhead threw the pack onto the coffee table. He was almost lackadaisical in his manners, from the gentle slouch to the way he cocked his head. His black T-shirt had no inscription, but chains dangled from his belt loop; he was decidedly what the youngsters would call "badass" and the adults would call "unruly". A slight grin hovered around his lips, which appeared to be defiant and a little belittling to the older man. Arien came in with a tray, placed a teacup and saucer in front of her father along with a teapot. She handed a coffee mug to Reno without a word, then left with a slight smile hovering about her lips, as if she knew what was going on and wasn't going to intervene.

"Ah, well," he replied, "what's the point in living if ya can't have fun?" What he had just said came back to him in full force, and the redhead realised with a start that he had dropped his guard. And subsequently lost a point. "Er, I mean…" He paused. "Um, yeah. I've been meaning to quit, actually."

"… Right." Myers sat a little straighter in his chair and poured himself a cup. "You do not need to be defencive with me. I just came to see what Arien was telling me for myself."

The redhead shut up.

"You see," Myers continued, "my daughter is not exactly street-smart. Oh, she can defend herself all-right, and do the required tasks in the sector, but when it comes to relationships, her younger sister was far more intuitive about it."

_I'll say to that,_ thought the young man. _She was also a conniving bitch and a whore. But whaddya know?_

"So call it a father's protectiveness. I do want my daughter to get married, and I do not want to see her weep with a broken heart. She is fragile and does not know how to mend herself. Ordinarily it would be my part to vehemently antagonise you and her mother to be the peacekeeper, but in this case, I must serve as both. Not an easy task for me. So if you-"

"Hold on a sec," the redhead interrupted. "Few things. First off, believe it or not, but I actually never went out of my way to hurt her, okay? I know it's pretty fucking unbelievable, but I _actually like her._"

Myers was silent.

"Second off, you need to give her a little more credit. I'm not saying she's not fragile, but she didn't just pick me because of my smokin' good looks and my red hair. And she gave a pretty good thought before dating me." He was getting irritated. "And I think taking a fuckin' bullet for her kinda qualifies as a show of devotion."

The father perked up at the last comment. "You did what?"

"I took a bullet for her, okay? I bled all over her carpet too." He remembered that night vividly; he had seduced her that night, had taken her virginity and pretty much everything else as he later found out, but now he wasn't so sure who seduced who in this complicated dance. But he wasn't going to tell the old man _that_. No father ever wanted to hear about the daughter's first experience with a man, and he was practically a sitting duck. Nope, no way. He heard some sizzling from the kitchen, and smelled olive oil and garlic.

Myers thought for a moment. Then frowned. And asked, "what do you see in her?"

"Huh?" The redhead looked baffled. "What?"

"What do you-"

"Yeah, I heard you." He shrugged. "What do you want me to say? It's not like I make a list and tick stuff off. She's her, and I'm me. Shouldn't that be enough?"

The phone rang again, and both men were rescued from answering that question, for Arien came back into the room with the phone in her hand. "It's Tseng," she mouthed as she shoved the phone to the redhead. He got off the sofa and grabbed the phone from her hand and entered the kitchen, out of earshot from Arien's father. Myers glanced as he saw the boy lean on the fridge, his lanky frame willowy, his daughter standing a little away from him as she bent down to get something from the cabinet. He finished the call soon enough, but Myers twitched when he saw the redhead briefly touch his daughter's arm as he discussed something with her; he was a little taller than his tall daughter, but not to the extent that it'd be conspicuous. There was definitely a level of physical closeness between them that only came when a man and a woman shared a bed, and while Myers knew that his daughter must be sleeping with him, it wasn't a pleasant reminder; but then he realised that people who shared blood on the battlefield also had a similar closeness that only came from sharing their lives at the most basic of levels. So which was it? Or was both?

"Lunch's ready," his daughter said, jolting him from his reverie. "Father?"

"Of course." He stood up, forcing a smile. Myers observed as his daughter bustled about, not particularly his daughter but her partner, studying him. By any standards he wasn't any ideal boy a father would like to meet under the circumstances of "father and daughter's boyfriend"; he looked for any signs of danger that might end up with his daughter in tears, and by all accounts, that was more than extremely likely. But then, he realised that the boy's predatory mien, the razor-sharp edge, softened every time he looked at her… well, as much as an assassin and a gang could soften his expression, that is. There was no question Reno had dealt with gangs before, from the way he behaved, and the way he dressed to the way he walked. Myers just _knew_. He hadn't made a career in the intelligence for nothing.

And what was his uptight, proper daughter doing with him?

But then again, she wasn't so uptight, if she survived being a Turk; they dealt with all the filth the upper echelons of the Shinra Company didn't want to deal with, which included, but wasn't limited to, kidnapping, blackmailing, and practically everything gangs did. Somewhere something had gone wrong and the more proper of his two daughters ended up knee-deep in the dark dealings any city had. In fact, some of the members of the squad had been gangs before joining the crew.

In the meanwhile, Reno was helping Arien set the table. "What was the call about?" Arien asked under her breath as she placed the plates. "What did Tseng want?"

"Assignment," Reno said shortly. "Something about drugs?"

"Drugs?" She raised an eyebrow. "Are we going to manufacture them?" _Clink_, the fork said its head hit the knife.

"We already do that," Reno pointed out as he slid the glass across the table. Arien glared at him, but he grinned when the glass settled where he meant it to be. "Nah, it's something else. Something about smack."

"Heroin?"

"That's the proper name, yeah."

"Since when did we care about heroin?"

"Dunno. Tseng sounded like someone caught his ass in the fire or something, though." He shrugged. "And well, since when is Tseng like that?"

_Good point,_ Arien thought as she corrected the incorrect positions of the silverware Reno had placed. He still couldn't get that forks didn't go to the right. "Why did he want to talk to you?" she asked.

"Oh, c'mon, Arie. Out of us four, who knows about smack the most?"

"True." She straightened. "Father?"

Myers, who had been watching the two work from some distance away, sat down, and saw that whatever familiarities his daughter had shed, cuisine wasn't one of them. Reno was still smoking - did that boy have a limitless stash of cigarettes? - but he managed to stub it out before taking the seat at the dining table. Before him was a lunch for three; chicken wrapped in cheese and wafer thin slices of bread fried transparent swimming in tomato sauce, green leafy salad with ricotta cheese, rice with a hint of garlic, and a bottle of wine. The tomato sauce was exactly the same as Eliane's, and he vaguely remembered his daughter in the kitchen with her mother, helping his wife cook. Arien had always been indoors, a quiet girl, never the one to run around outside. Some things never changed, evidently, and for a moment, Myers almost saw Eliane and Reniel come in with smiles on their faces… but Eliane was dead, and Reniel was missing. So much for that.

"Hey, pass the salt?"

Myers was brought back to reality with the redhead talking to his daughter. She casually passed the salt to him, then continued to eat. The redhead had okay manners, which was a surprise to him; Myers almost expected Reno to skewer everything with the knife and shove the food into his mouth, but he did no such thing. Instead, he used his utensils like a normal person, although he did have a tendency to use his fork and knife to gesticulate wildly.

"So, how did you two meet?"

The redhead looked at Arien, who shrugged. "You haven't told your dad?" He asked.

"Nope. Well, I just told him it was at work." She put down the glass of water, then saw Reno scowl. "Oops," she said, shrugging.

"Hang on a sec, why are you asking how we met? You already know!"

"All I know is that it was at work. Details, daughter." Myers glanced at her, who gave the redhead a dirty look. "Please do not tell me you two actually met at a disco."

Arien and Reno prudently kept their mouths shut. While they did not meet at a disco, Reno had seduced her at a club, but telling that to Myers would clearly not fly well. Never mind that it had been Shivvalan's birthday party and neither of them had gone to the club to find a mate. Arien had been drunk, and Reno wasn't about to tell Myers that he had tricked her. It just wasn't something one told to the parents. It also won't do that Arien had tried to sterilise Reno by trying to kick him between his legs. Now to come and think of it, Reno was rather touched that Arien hadn't tried to shoot it off. He wouldn't put it past the woman. Once she made up her mind, the next thing going off would be her gun, and Reno was fairly certain he had been on her shit list back then. Hell, he might still be on it.

But god, that kiss had been delicious. More so because it had been Arien's first admission of defeat. All-right, their relationship was kind of messed up. And somehow both of them had forgotten that three-months trial period he had initially set on their relationship. Suddenly it had been months and shit was happening too fast to seriously talk about where the relationship was going, and then the world exploded and relationships most definitely took a back seat in the priority list.

"No, we did not meet at a disco," Arien replied. She got up to clear her plate away; Reno and Myers still had some to go. "He was my senior agent."

"I see." Myers knew they'd have a story on how they ended up together, but decided not to probe. No doubt they'd go tight-lipped about it, and he wasn't entirely sure he could get the information out of the redhead; Arien, probably, but Reno was entirely another matter. Unpredictable and chaotic, Myers could not figure out what the redhead would do next. "I was a bit surprised, you know, but she always had her wild side. Her music collection from her schooldays should have warned me."

Reno raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" He turned to his girlfriend. "Wanna tell me about it?"

"No."

"Well, Mr DeVir," Reno said lightly, "what did she listen to?"

"She-" He was interrupted by Arien shouting "Father!". Myers chuckled, then shook his head. "No, I think that's for her to tell. It was interesting, however."

The meal ended with small talk about nothing, and then Myers took his leave. As he exited, he saw his daughter wave, and wondered what was that flash of a desolate expression that had crossed her face when he had mentioned her sister. Had something happened between the two? He was aware of the bitter sibling rivalry between Arien and Reniel, but Reniel had disappeared, and Arien seemed to know nothing about what had happened to her sister… and no surprise there, he doubted she was even aware her twin worked in the same building as she. As a Turk and a secretary, those two likely would never have met in the workplace.

But that expression bothered him. Especially because the redhead had glanced at Arien when he had mentioned Reniel's name. Had she not told him that she had a twin sister? Or was there something more going on?

Arien. Where had his innocent daughter gone? Instead, a woman with a mask existed in her place, her mien unchanged save for the fleeting expressions on her face that was bleak and despondent. Was it because of the redhead?

Or was it because of what she had done?

He doubted it was the redhead. As much as he wanted to tag on the blame to the unruly young man, he couldn't; for he saw the same darkness in his blue eyes, and somehow sensed that the darkness was what they shared most profoundly, and the reason why, despite all their differences, they were together. He could only wonder at what kind of experiences would cast such deep shadows on his daughter, and the man who seemly lacked care or worries.


	5. The Public Trust and a Drug Bust

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - Myers is the only family left, so I figured it's time to get to see a little more of the family (now that we know a little more about Reno's).

blob80 - I kinda decided to go ahead and start releasing without finishing it first. Assassin's Creed has _a lot_ of research to be done; it's taking two weeks to write one chapter. FF7's a little more forgiving.

Without further ado! Action unfolds.

Chapter 4: The Public Trust and a Drug Bust

* * *

As soon as Myers left, they rushed into their uniforms. For some reason, it just seemed a taboo to head out for work without the suit, although no one had ever said that the uniform was necessary. Not now, after the downfall of the city; but Reno supposed it was part of their identity as a Turk, just as a gang member would wear the motif of their organisation with pride. Besides, nobody messed with the blackjacket. Not even now.

Reno tugged on the wristband; Arien was shrugging on the holster harness, adjusting so the leather would settle on her shoulders comfortably. He didn't, but she had washers sewn into the hems of the jacket, so it would swing away cleanly when she reached for her pistols. Quick to wound with her words, she was, but she was quicker to reach for her gun, and she rarely missed her mark. She was his foil, control to his wildness, distance to his close-quarter. She leaned onto the wall, waiting for him to check his phone as she twirled the pistol in her hand, the black metal with the gravitas of the lives it had taken. But the scars had etched themselves into her face far more deeply than it had etched themselves into the metal of the pistol, and Reno could see it in her ennui. She was burrowing deep into her depression, and the only reason why the depression hadn't taken over completely was because there was a part of her left that still dotted her i's and lined her t's. Old habits died hard.

"Where's my Jericho?"

"Here." She pushed herself off from the wall with her foot, then reached for the pistol, which she slapped into his hand. She holstered her own, then buttoned the blazer. And then they were out.

"Hey," he asked as they walked out the door, "what songs did you listen to in high school?"

"Hm?" she asked back absently, then realised the question. "That's a random question," she observed, raising an eyebrow. "What's going on?"

"No, it's not. Your dad mentioned it, but he never told me what you listened to. Said he shoulda known you'd go for wild guys from your taste in music?" Reno reminded her. Arien blinked.

"Oh." She thought for a moment. "Well, a lot of stuff I listened to was just what was popular in class. Erm. Paula Abdul. You know. C and C Music Family was big too. Divinyls."

"Wasn't _Opposites Attract_ a number one on the list for, like, a year?_._"

"It was." She laughed. "Looks like that song wasn't such a bogus after all."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked, checking his pockets for the keys. He located them, but there were all sorts of other things jammed into his pockets, and he began fishing the keys out.

"_You like the movies, and I like TV,_" Arien reminded dryly. She could almost feel the unevenness of the street beneath the sole of her left shoe. "We aren't really similar, Reno."

"_But when we get together it all works out,_ huh?" He finally located the keyring. "You listened to The Divinyls?"

"Had to. Was also a big hit. Why?"

"So..." he glanced at her with an expression that she just knew wasn't any good. "Did you touch yourself?"

"No." She gave him a nasty look. "You asked about the Divinyls just to ask about that, didn't you?"

"Yup."He grinned, and slid the key into the ignition.

It had been Arien's idea to dish out almost four times what it was worth and procure a car. She had flatly refused to go back and forth between the Edge and Healin on Reno's proposed vehicle - a motorcycle - contesting his claims that it was better that way. "It's two hours to get there," she had said firmly when the squad had discussed it. "Sitting on a motorcycle for two hours is going to wear people out before whatever we're supposed to do even starts. It's cars or nothing, Reno."

Rude and Elena had immediately voted for the car. Since the bald partner and the blonde also stayed at Reno and Arien's apartment when they were in town, the choice of transportation vehicle mattered to them as well. The obvious answer had been a car, not a motorcycle, and Reno had been severely outvoted. Grumbling, he had gone to procure a vehicle, an uninspiring SUV that had clearly seen some better days.

The sun hit across Reno's face as he drove, and he narrowed his eyes as he snapped the goggles on to shield his eyes away from the sun. The expressway was sparsely used, the asphalt bumpy from the lack of resources to make the roads smoother; yet another reminder that the Edge was not the polished and planned metropolis but something that had just sprouted like mushrooms after the rain. Arien was in the passenger seat, looking slightly tired. Arien was a creature of plans and routines, and she didn't take very well to having them changed at the last minute. Being ready to go at Rufus's - and Tseng's - beck and call was not something new to her anymore and so she wasn't fatigued over this last-minute summons, but it was clear she had been on the edge with her father. And no wonder, really; she had murdered her own twin, and while the redhead knew she wasn't that beaten up over it, confessing the crime to a parent was a completely different matter. Arien had a difficult relationship with her dead twin, but she also understood that to her father, both were his daughters. Skirting around the subject and not giving anything away to an irritatingly canny man would wear most people out. And so here she was, head leaning onto the seat, her pose unusually lax. She usually sat straighter. She remained immobile even when he had pulled up into the space where they usually parked. Was she sleeping?

"Yo, Arie." He leaned over, pulled his goggles off, and looked into her face. "We're here."

"Oh." She stretched. She must have been sleeping. Sunglasses still on her nose, she opened the passenger door and got off, unzipping the jacket. Reno was already walking ahead, spinning the keys around his slender finger, whistling. Reno was... behaving differently. Oh, sure, he still acted as if there was no care in the world, but sometimes, when he thought she wasn't looking, he looked as if he regretted... something. What, she didn't know.

_Early in the morning, rising to the street, lighting up that cigarette..._

Well, Reno was trying to maintain his balance when his crux had been blown off the face of the planet, and he was doing so by pretending that life hadn't changed. The song'd go on that the singer would have to find a reason why things went wrong. But was there a particular reason? Was there a point trying to find out? Didn't the song say that life was too short because you never knew when you got run over or got shot?

At least the sun was out. It was one of those rays that was gentle, but bright enough to feel warm on the skin. Reno's gaze as he looked up was oddly reminiscent, but of what, Arien did not know. Maybe it was his youth that he was remembering, or maybe it was one of those carefree days when Shinra was still around, he was just a Turk, and the most of his cares was why he was cashless. But he said nothing, and she didn't ask.

* * *

Half an hour later, Reno was decidedly thinking that his life sucked. Big time. "A drug bust?!" He blurted. "What are we now, cops?"

Rufus narrowed his eyes. "This is not _just_ a drug bust," he said, his voice calm as the weather right before a hurricane. "They're making contraband versions of Hyper Potion and are cutting it with heroin-"

"Someone's cutting Hyper Potion with smack? Man, that's evil."

Rufus ignored the redhead's jibes. "-and it needs to get off the streets. Not only do I dislike competition, I do not want people addicted to heroin because they are in pain." He waved his hand. "I want them eradicated. That production needs to be wiped out."

_Great,_ Reno thought. Finding drug operations was harder than it looked. He'd know; after all, he had done his fair share foiling the police at hiding the drug operations himself. But when Rufus said to jump, they didn't bother asking about anything; they'd just continue jumping until Rufus was satisfied with the performance. When some of the slummies called the Turks Rufus' dogs, they were eerily closer to the truth than what anyone cared for.

"Hey look," he said. "These things don't get taken care of overnight. You sure you want us to do this? It's gonna take full muscles and some serious time."

"You'd know," Elena murmured. He gave her a sour look.

"Yeah, I would. And trust me, if these boys are any good, we'd be spending weeks on this shit. And since we haven't beaten their asses to the next moon yet, they're half-decent." He looked at Rufus. "You sure you wanna do this, boss?"

Rufus raised an eyebrow, which was his way of saying "no questions". Reno nodded, and Tseng uncharacteristically deferred to him. But then again, when it came to the dealings of the underworld, Reno had the most first-hand experience. He hadn't been a gang member before joining the Turks for nothing, and one of the higher-ranking ones at that; he knew how most of the underground operations worked, and probably had experience carrying most of them out as well. He was, unlike Rude, who had a military background, or Arien and Elena, who were military academy thoroughbreds, someone picked off the streets, and that made him fairly rough around the edges. But when it came to these inner mechanisms that weren't released to the press or regurgitated with blood and tears in the interrogation rooms, Reno was the man to ask.

As the Turks filed out, Reno looked thoughtful. Arien, who was the last to leave, glanced at her boyfriend, who was walking next to his partner Rude. "You're thinking," she noted.

Reno was jolted awake from his train of thought. "Yeah," he said. "Just rememberin', I guess."

She narrowed her eyes. "You did smack?"

"Tried, yeah." He looked at her expression, then shrugged. "I've pretty much done everything the police will lock you up for, plus a few others they don't have on the list. And trust me, you'd rather be addicted to the big H than the Hyper Piper."

"I trust you," Arien replied. "But at least it's not cut with the Flesh-Eater."

"Aligater?" Reno wrinkled his nose. "That's practically antifreeze mixed with gasoline."

"Well, some teenager thought it'd be a brilliant idea to shoot that up her privates."

"Bollocks!" Reno cackled. "Nobody's that stupid... oh wait, you serious?"

A raised eyebrow with a crooked curve of her lip told him that she was not joking. "Damn," he muttered. "Some people are crazy." Arien shrugged, twirling the small knife in her hand absently, the silver blade spinning in her hand. It was a new knife, one of those army knives with multiple blades; everybody had one in the pocket, just in case. There was bound to be a pistol somewhere on her body, he knew, a Glock and a Sig; those were her signature weapons, just as the baton was his. She was an expert shooter, on par with Tseng when it came to marksmanship. She was awful at hand-to-hand, and panicked when something went awry, but when it came to guns, very few could outshoot her. She wielded guns like they were extensions of her hands.

Reno knew she wasn't a "natural", so to speak; her vision was excellent, but that was only after the mako radiation treatment that was required of all members of the Investigation Sector. The price for that, plus a few bonuses, were high, but not something they really concerned themselves with; family, children, and marriage weren't really on their wish list or their to-do list to begin with. It had taken practice - a lot of practice - for Arien to get to where she was. And well, he knew Arien was a hard worker, if nothing else, but she just didn't seem the type to find much happiness in pulling the trigger. From what he had heard of her childhood, she had been a quiet girl, not really into destruction and murder. So what had happened?

"Hey, Arie?"

Arien, who was looking through her phone - she did have a lot of connection with the former Intelligence members - but she stopped and looked up. "Hm?" she asked. They had come back to their room. Reno would be doing the main search, but Arien needed to yank some strings to get a whiff of where the lab was. It was just easier for her to sit down and do the work rather than do it while on the move.

"Question."

She nodded, urging him to continue.

"You've never thought about using another weapon?"

Arien, who was not expecting that question, looked at him. Studied him. Thought. Then, "why do you ask?"

Reno shrugged. "No reason. Just thought... well, it wasn't easy for you to get to where you were. You know, with" - he gestured aiming with his left hand - "that."

She shrugged, a small shrug, but it wasn't a denial. Reno continued.

"So I just wondered... why pistols? It could've been anything, right?"

She took a deep breath, then leaned forward. "When I was at the academy," she said, "we had to choose which kind of training we wanted to receive. Martial arts, sword-fight... with guns you don't have to be with someone, and you don't have to run around. Call it laziness. And after joining the Intelligence... well, as long as I had a gun in my hands, I could be anyone. I could survive the worst. But only as long as I was good. Without it, I couldn't be an _agent_, and if I wasn't good at it, all I would be is a woman playing with dangerous toys." She looked at her hands. "Intelligence - and well, what we do now - isn't really a woman's field, Reno. Oh sure, there's Section D, but that's very specific. For a woman to be respected in a man's world... it takes twice as much work. And so, I trained. So no one would point at me and say, 'she's playing at being a man'."

"Is that why you were like that too?"

"Like what?" She looked down at her phone again.

"All cold and unfeeling. Man, it was downright hard to talk to you."

She smiled. "I suppose. But you changed that." She touched the screen, moving her fingers this way and that, composing a message. Reno had a good idea where to hit up first. No matter how much research you did, the easiest way was to find a dealer, buy some yourself, then beat up the seller until you got the next lead. And well, Reno knew exactly how to do that.

"I need some gils," he said. Arien, who was still composing the message, looked up again.

"For what?" she asked warily. If this was something outside the assignment, he'd just use the bank account he had to his name, so she assumed this had something to do with the mission itself. "I hope you know what you're doing, Reno."

"I kinda do, at least better than you guys," he explained. "If these guys have any brains, we won't find them by using maps. We need to start buyin'."

She narrowed her eyes. "Am I thinking what you're thinking?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Depends on what you're thinkin'. I ain't no mind-reader."

She shrugged the quip off. "We're buying the counterfeit, aren't we?" she asked.

"Yeah. I think we gotta." Reno shrugged. "We first gotta know where to go to buy these shit from. They're bound to be bars or clubs where people'd be snorting these shit up their noses like a hose. We gotta get to them."

"Clubs?" She raised an eyebrow. "You sure there'd be clubs? It's been only what, a year?" She didn't say a year since what; that was fairly obvious. Reno, however nodded.

"Guys have needs, Arie. And when we guys get stupid and desperate..." he trailed off, leaving his bedpartner to silently complete the sentence. "Trust me. There's bound to be a brothel."

"And how are we to find one? It's not like we've had you or Rude frequenting a whorehouse."

"Yeah, well." He shrugged. "Guys are usually fairly open about telling each other these kinds of shit. And then..."

Arien raised an eyebrow. She was fairly certain she won't like what was coming next. Actually, she just _knew. _When Reno wasn't open to flaunting his brilliance - never mind that those plans, if they could be called plans, fell apart faster than a polyester undergarment - that meant she wasn't going to like what he was going to say. And that look. She just knew it.

"Fine, I'll take the bait," she finally said when Reno didn't continue. "And then what?"

"We need an undercover."

"Why are you telling me this?" She gracefully raised an eyebrow. "Why don't you do the undercover for once?"

"Oh, c'mon. Me and Rude can't watch the place all the time to know who's selling what shit to who. We need a pair of eyes there. And that's-"

"Don't tell me," she groaned. "I get to play the role?"

"It's either you or 'Laney, and she has way too many scars already to pull it off." He grinned. "I knew I had a reason for keeping you scar-free."

"Are you sure it was for that and not for your benefit?"

"Well, that too." He grinned. "Look, worst comes to the worst, we'll pay off the owner and get you a spot as a manager or something. I don't want guys groping my girlfriend anymore than you do."

Arien glared at him and resumed her task of composing messages on her phone. Reno grinned, feeling almost hyper-eager for the upcoming operation. Running around in the slums, beating people up and hunting was his thing to do, and he felt like he was finally back in his element. Finally a familiar territory, familiar activities... and for once, he forgot that the Meteor Crisis had ever happened. The shadows ever beckoned to him, with the stench of men's desperation and blood.


	6. Two Girls, Two Boys

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - Thanks for the review! As long as there's someone reading this, I'll keep uploading. Reno and Arien have a story to tell, so I better do my job and get it out to the world...

Chapter 5: Two Girls, Two Boys

* * *

Reno looked around, breathing in a hundred men's depravity and a dozen women's desperation. It was a familiar smell, and he silently wondered if there was some formulaic mystery to getting the exact same smell, anywhere, anytime. He'd know the smell anywhere; after all, he had been a member of a cartel that simultaneously trafficked women and drugs. Hell, no one would ever call him a saint. He was made of the scum that lined the gutters, and he knew it. But still, after months of the unfamiliarity of a new town literally sprouting up about his ears, he took a moment to appreciate the sordid and almost rancid smell of sexuality gone terribly bad.

"Hi, Rennie."

He looked up from his seat on the sofa to see the owner of the brothel. She was a heavy-set woman, only on this side of obese by a breadth of hair, and no less. She also had the shrewd eyes of a businesswoman and a body that had pleasured many men and knew all the tricks that his girlfriend would never know, plus a set of hair that was so artificially coloured he could almost smell the dye. "Hey, Violetta." He gave his trademark grin.

A woman came, dressed in a simple black shirt and black trousers, her hair tied up. Light make-up, nothing to invite men with their wandering hands; she carried herself with aloofness and a snappiness in her movements to suggest something more than a tussle in bed should men act upon their lusts uninvited. "Hello," she said, her voice carrying through the loud music that barely masked the moans of passion from the sequestered rooms down the corridor, off to the left. "Here's your drink, sir."

Reno waited for the woman to place the glass upon the table, then a paper napkin next to it, and turned to Violetta who sat next to him as the woman left. "New girl?" He asked as he lit up, leaning forward as Violetta offered him a light.

The mistress of the brothel raised an eyebrow. "You interested?"

He eyed the figure cutting a path amidst the writhing bodies under the artificial lights. Depravity and sin took root anywhere, and the Edge, for all its raw newness, was not excluded from its debauchery. "Why?" He asked, not taking his eyes off the black-clad woman with a tray under her arm, watching her as she dodged a wandering hand with a sharp smack of the tray against the fingers. "Is she up?"

"No." Violetta lit up as well. "I hired her as a bouncer, Reno. She's a bodyguard, not bodyguarded. Besides, since when were you into that type anyway?"

_Well, it__'s not like you'd ever know my type,_ Reno absently thought, but didn't say it. "Never," he said smoothly; the truth came more easily than a lie, probably because he really wasn't into her type to begin with. She wasn't big at all, but she didn't seem the type to allow for trysts and flirting. A twist of her hip and she was behind the bar, a black shadow against the flashing lights of the brothel and the club that clearly catered to anyone with enough turpitude and money to fulfil a few hours of their sexual whimsies.

"So, why are you here?"

Violetta Sere's question was valid enough, but one that warranted a careful answer. He and the woman - just Violet, back then - went way back, when she had just been a prostitute at the Honeybee and he a lowly gang member. They had helped each other, keeping careful distances of one another, never taking each other to bed and thereby remaining friendly acquaintances, if not outright friends. But well… in this line of work, trust was hard to come by. Some whores were implicitly trustworthy, refusing to sell their integrity along with their bodies, but some were ready to fall to the deepest, darkest levels available to humanity. He had never quite figured out which one Violetta Sere was aspiring to.

"Curiosity," he said evasively.

"About?" A puff. "Are you still with the Shinra, Reno?"

"No." Anything short of a flat-out denial would mean he was waffling and that'd lead to unwanted suspicions, something he definitely did not want. The loud music was almost making it impossible for him to think. Rude would have died here, and he was glad he had offered to check up here, rather than the other place, which had been his first choice. The prostitutes, destitute and in more dire need of money than ever, came to and fro, eyeing Reno and getting shooed away by the mistress. All skimpy clad, with ample bosoms and swaying hips and fleshy underarms, most of medium height, some even shorter, with heavily lined eyes and painted lips… the prostitutes always looked the same, always acted the same, their duplicity obvious to everyone except those who were desperate to get laid. And well, he had never been _that_ desperate.

"Are you going to just drink here or make use of the other services?" Violetta demanded.

"Just drink."

"Well, don't dawdle for too long."

And that made Reno turn his head, cast a questioning look. "Why?" He asked. "Is anyone gonna fuck on the sofa?" He jumped to his feet. "Wait, _has_ anyone fucked on this sofa?"

"No. Don't be crass." The woman rolled her eyes as Reno sank back into the seat. "You're distracting the girls, Reno, and scaring away customers. Bad for business."

"Oh gee, you coulda just said your girls are digging my smoldering good looks."

"Men don't like competition, Reno. Especially in a whorehouse."

"Fine, fine." It wasn't as if he had anything else to do here; what he wanted was in the napkin, and he had come here for the express reason of getting it from the woman. He raised his right hand in supplication as he downed the glass with his left. "I'll leave." He wiped his mouth with the napkin, feeling the slight stiffness uncommon to the material paper napkins were made of, then crumpled it, stuffing it into his pocket. His hand continued to dig around in his jeans pocket, pulling out a wallet and throwing gils onto the table. "Nice to see you too, Violetta."

* * *

"Hi," she said, blowing her hair out of her face. "How's it going?"

The man did not respond; his expression was illegible behind the sunglasses, although the redhead could read the man fairly well, at least to her knowledge. But to her, the man's expression was about as readable as a closed book, and so she hadn't a clue what the man was feeling. She was good at guessing what the others thought, using deduction and logic, but when it came to emotions, she was stumped. Rather than dwell on it, she had decided to forget about it, although recently she was beginning to learn that ignoring this particular problem might not be the ideal solution.

She pulled out a small piece of paper attached to a small packet from her pocket, and gave it to him, who took it from her hand with a nod. Ever since the Shinra Tower had turned into rubble, decent mobile encryption was almost impossible, as the cellular towers had gone down with the company headquarters. Unwilling to take risks, the Turks had decided to do this the old-fashioned way - namely, codes and destroying the scraps of paper after decryption. It was old-fashioned and oh-so-not-modern, but it worked, and they were sorely lacking in terms of technology.

The back alley of this particular brothel was what could only be termed as filth. Debris, half-eaten food, rodents and an unpleasant odour were the regular decor of this particular path, and not a person graced the landscape except for the two who were exchanging words. The woman was dressed like a bouncer - albeit a very slim one - but the man knew that this would not blow her cover. Sure, she would never beat him, or his partner, but when it came to trouncing dunces, she was just as good as any of them. Her arms were ghostly white against the black fabric of the T shirt, and the dark trousers looked easy to move in. Her hair would offer no handholds to anyone who was looking. She looked, all in all, like a bouncer.

Rude also handed her a piece of paper, which just had numbers of them, seemingly without meaning. She nodded, tucked it into her pocket, then turned away, disappearing into the doorway that was about as descriptive as the door next. With a metallic noise the door latched itself, and he was left in the alley, alone. He began walking away at a rapid pace, his vision slightly impaired by the sunglasses. He really didn't need them per se, but it made him harder to describe, and anonymity was your best friend when you were in this line of work. Something that had escaped his partner, but then again, Reno's flaming red hair didn't exactly stand out in a mako-addled city. There were just as many redheads as punkheads. Walking away, he detached the piece of paper from the packet, then took a look at it. Tiny script filled it, the size barely larger than a sticky note the office workers used for memos, easily fitting into the palm of his hand; the woman had tiny handwriting to begin with, but she had made it even smaller, and Rude wished for a magnifying glass. But what she had wrote was crucial to this operation, and she did not squander details. He now knew exactly where to look, for whom, and what to say. She had good eyes, that one.

He got to the rendezvous point. Reno was already there, smoking, looking bored as he leaned onto the wall with his right foot hooked into the dimple the size of a man's head in the concrete. He looked at the bald man as he heard him approach. "I'm guessing you didn't have to meet Arien in the club," he noted.

Rude raised an eyebrow.

"Sure I can tell. You don't reek of a million cigarettes, booze that really should be called piss, and losers." He sniffed. "It's always the same, no matter where. Whorehouses always smell the same."

"Elena?"

"Doing a decent job." He shrugged. "She can handle herself, at least better than the other one we should be worrying about. 'Laney was the top of the class in hand-to-hand combat."

Rude nodded. When it came to wiping the floor with men, Elena far outclassed Arien. Of course, Arien did have her strengths, but guns weren't allowed to bouncers; the owners didn't want an all-range shoot-out, they just wanted the troublesome customers to learn their lessons and never return. Reno threw away the stub, grinding it under his foot. Rude began to walk, Reno walking next to him.

The apartment Reno and Arien lived in was a little away from the centre of the town, tucked away in a remote corner that no one would really look at twice. A diminutive 308 adorned the door, slightly tarnished, and no name indicated just who dwelled inside. Reno simply opened the door with a key he produced from his pocket, then turned on the light switch, Rude closing the door behind him. The room was filled with light, illuminating the interior, and Rude looked around.

It wasn't his first time here, but it wasn't like he lived here either. The room was an odd mix of Reno and Arien; next to a vase of flowers was a box of cigarettes thrown haphazardly and without care, his bulky shoes next to a slender pair of loafers. But each of Reno's essence was like a dash of colour against Arien's otherwise mildness that bordered on drab, and Rude felt as if he was walking into a painting that was only half-dry. And Reno stood in the middle of it, talking, unaware that his partner was paying more attention to the room that he had been in but had not really been aware of, puttering about, tossing keys, unholstering his pistol.

Arien hadn't been here in ten days. That much, Rude knew. Ordinarily people's presences faded as days went by, but Arien's thereness was still thick in the air. He realised that Reno was so accustomed to it that he was unaware of it; Arien was so integrated into his life that even when she was gone, he took her existence as a part of his formula, thought nothing of it. Oh, Rude knew that Reno was sorely aware that Arien might disappear - in fact, she had - but there was a sense of familiarity. He was acutely aware that this was Reno's home, and that he was intruding in it.

"Maaaaan," Reno half-drawled, half-whined. "I did _not_ expect to be spending the night with one heck of a bald dude when I signed up for this job." He had crashed into the sofa, and had turned the TV on. Evidently television was a necessity and not luxury for the Midgarians, for even during the destruction of the city, the television had been on air. Reno was flipping through the channels, looking bored and uninterested.

"What _did _ you expect?" Rude asked, almost curious. He knew the rough outline of Reno's past, but not in minute details. He wasn't sure if even Arien knew. The redhead was a miser when it came to his history, hoarding it and rarely divulging more than what was absolutely needed. Which, in the Turks' case, was almost nothing.

"Dunno. Hot chicks? Shitloads of money? A chance to kick everyone's ass?" Giving up on finding entertainment from the channels, he turned the television off and threw the remote next to him. "Hey, what you got tonight?"

Rude fished out the memo, silently handed it over to the redhead, who took it and squinted to read. "What the hell did she write this with?" He muttered. "I need a fuckin' microscope to read this shit."

"At least it's legible," Rude riposted. Reno harrumphed, although he did not rejoinder. He very well couldn't, as his handwriting was no better than chicken scratches.

"Okay, so they both come every other day… looks like there's at least three boys selling this shit." He frowned. "Maybe four." He read the note again, then pulled out his own, gave it to Rude, who raised his sunglasses to take a look. The two men read in silence, ruminating over the facts.

"Who's gonna beat up who?" Reno broke the silence.

"Hm?"

"We need the info."

Rude almost grinned at his partner and his recklessness. That, at least, hadn't changed. "We need to plan," Rude said. "We need to hit both places, just in case."

"Oh." Reno thought for a moment. "Didn't think of that."

"We also should do this together."

"True."

"We need to do this in one night." Rude didn't expound upon the reason, but Reno understood anyway; if one of their sellers spilled the beans, the jig would be up. And then they'd be forced to scramble. Not an ideal situation.

"All-right," Reno nodded in agreement. "Let's do this… tomorrow. Better get it over with." He stretched. "We need to pull the girls out." He pulled out his own phone, now a luxury item; mobile phones were extremely scarce these days. "What was the code?"

"Party at Tim's."

"Right." He began composing the message. "What time?"

"Two. Afternoon."

"Gotcha." Reno hit send. "I'll take Arien to Healin, so you get Elena. That might scramble wits a bit. Just to be sure." He slid the phone back into his pocket. "Hey, got the thing?"

Rude produced the packet from the pocket without a word. Reno pulled the coffee table closer to him, then pulled out a small folding knife from his belt loop. Flipping the blade open, he cut free the paper, revealing a small, clear bag inside, filled with white tablets the size of a nail.

"Can't believe people use this shit," Reno wondered out loud. "Well, except the sooties. That, I get." He used the slang for Geostigma patients, originally coined because their foci of the disease looked as if someone had smeared the flesh with soot. The Intelligence - or what was left of it - had given Arien a tip that what was being sold as the pain-reliever for the new disease was the same as the recreational drug being sold in brothels and clubs. The Turks could only deduce that the Intel had arrived at this conclusion because the ones being sold pseudo-medicinally was packaged the same as the ones being sold recreationally. It was sloppy, according to Reno, but it made the Turks' lives slightly easier, so they didn't go about complaining. They really could use a break these days.

"People are degenerate," Rude announced.

"Tell me about it. I enabled half the degenerate-ness back in those days." He opened the top of the bag, stuck a finger, then pulled it out, looking at the crystalline smear on his fingertip. He sniffed at it, frowned again, then licked it. His eyes widened, then his eyes narrowed. Pursing his lips, he closed the bag, then went to the kitchen. Rude heard the water running, splashes, and then Reno was back, shaking wet hands, flinging water everywhere. The man's expression was something Rude rarely saw; a mixture of irritation, anger, contempt, and exasperation. The expression was never a herald of anything good, and Rude knew that whatever Reno had just found out was bound to make this operation far messier than what they had first expected.

"What?"

"Oh man," Reno said. "We need to get movin'. Real soon."


	7. Jenny, Trent, and Barney

Sorry I'm late! I've been feeling fairly poorly for the past week, and I just wasn't up to doing the simple task of export and upload document.

Blob80 - Thanks for your comment. I've curbed the OC appearances in this one, because the two main characters stay together in this one. The first one had a kidnapping arc that I tried to take out... and it didn't work, because otherwise I couldn't explain why Cloud and Co. never met Arien.

Jessie3495 - No problem! I did my best to edit errors out. I was going to write the extra scene at the end from Arien's POV, but I felt it fairly redundant for some reason. That, and I thought Reno's POV'd be far more interesting. I originally planned to make Reno a playa but I toned it down after I saw a few posts on the forum (from men) saying that he probably doesn't play around that much.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - Mitchie will show up, no worries. The revamp probably has better English, and a little more pizzazz (I hope...) from Reno. I think I have a more mature view of him, as a working man who's just trying to make a living.

Chapter 6: Jenny, Trent, and Barney

* * *

The next day, the four Turks were on their way to Healin.

The sky was giving way from its scarlet brilliance to twilight; Rude was driving, Reno in the passenger seat, and the two women in the back. Arien was looking at the bag with distaste, while Elena was staring out the window. The roads were empty, and Rude made good time. Reno was asleep, slumped into the back of the seat, slightly snoring. There was nothing to talk about, not yet; when they did get to the lodge, things would need to be reported, information exchanged, orders given, plans made out, but for the moment, everyone was silent.

Rude turned left smoothly, and Reno woke up. He jerked his knee, smashing it into the dashboard, then yelped in pain. "What the… where are we?" he muttered as he nursed a sore kneecap.

"About thirty minutes 'til Healin," Arien replied, tossing the plastic bag into Reno's lap. "Had a good nap?"

"If you can call being cramped in a shitty seat with no leg room while sweating a bucket a nap," Reno grumbled. "No monsters roaming around?"

"No."

"That's new." He turned his head, looking at Elena for confirmation, who merely shrugged. The redhead flapped the hem of his T shirt, trying to cool down and to no avail. The heat was sweltering, a thick, unwelcome blanket that refused to be banished by the breeze trickling in from the open windows, and Reno felt as if he was in a sauna. Elena, with her head sticking out the window, reminded him of a dog, and Arien looked as if she was about to die. The only person who showed no evidence of discomfort was Rude. Despite his attempts, the cotton fabric stuck to his skin like a wet plaster, and the strands of red hair stuck to his forehead like crawling worms.

"Damn, it's hot." He fanned himself with his hand.

"Understatement." Arien's reply was just as terse as his declaration. "Did the Meteor mess with the climate or something? This is unnatural."

"I bet Tseng's in a well air-conditioned room right now. Throw him into this heat for a change."

"That's really undeserved, sir!" Elena interjected. "Director has plenty of things to worry about without being bothered by this temp-"

"You don't have to suck up to him, 'Laney," Reno said crankily. "Tseng's not gonna hear you, and so he won't be thanking you and asking you out on a date either."

"That's not why I was saying this! That's rude!"

Arien saw veins popping out of Rude's temple, took it as a danger sign. "You two!" She said exasperatedly. "Cut it out. We're here."

Rude brought the car to a stop, and the Turks got out, each eager to get to the cabin. They needed to suss out the plans for the next few weeks, but more than that, the heat was getting unbearable. The sky was turning into a shade of blue that women sought to wear for special occasions, stars twinkling like tiny crystals, and Reno suddenly remembered Arien's dress that she had worn on that fateful evening. It had been a black and white ensemble, with crystals sewn on, glittering in the light as she escorted Rufus. That seemed eons ago, a different lifetime… but when he glanced at the woman, she was still the woman he knew so well, her face ever expressionless. But now he knew that her lack of expression was not because she had none, but because she was a control freak. She was terrified of letting go, and because of that, she was so close to cracking, something that only he could relieve.

He waited a moment for her to catch up. "Man, it's hot," he said, his tone drowsy.

She cocked her head a little to the side. "Didn't you grow up in Costa del Sol?"

"That doesn't mean I like sweating."

She cracked a faint smile. "True." She scraped her hair away from her face, then re-adjusted her holsters under her arms. She had not worn them when she was undercover, but now that they had the necessary information, she was freely wearing her pistols. Usually they were not visible under her jacket, but it was too hot to wear anything over a shirt.

"You think we can sleep in our own bed tonight?"

"I hope so." She stretched as she climbed the steps up to the doorway. "I haven't slept decently for a week."

Reno climbed after her, and felt the chill air caress his face as soon as he began climbing. The doorway was open, the air carrying the smell of antiseptics and bleach with a whiff of soap. It smelled clean, if sterile.

When Reno got in, he closed the door behind him. Everyone else was already in the front room, Rufus sitting in his wheelchair, Tseng slightly behind him, and the rest of the Turks - out of uniform and slightly sweaty - gathered around the president. Rufus observed each from under his draped cloth, then nodded, almost to himself. His agents, his weapons against the world. There was Rude, ever steady behind his sunglasses, Elena with her perky enthusiasm, Tseng with his calculating leadership, Reno almost animalistic in his instincts, and Arien with her meticulousness. Alone they were weak, but as a team he couldn't have asked for better.

"Speak," he said.

* * *

"This is troubling," Tseng said.

"Yeah." Reno nodded, frowning. "Tell me 'bout it. We don't just have this drug thing that's being a pain in the ass, it's also totally something we don't have a clue about."

"Are you sure?" Rufus asked, his voice steady.

"Listen Prez," said the redhead. "I know my shit. I mean, that's what you've hired me for. And trust me, this ain't smack, it's not crack, or whatever -ack you can come up with. I don't have a fucking clue what this shit is."

"Flour?"

Reno glared at Arien. "I know what flour tastes like."

"Sorry."

"How do you know this?" Rufus asked. Reno shrugged.

"I don't think you wanna know."

And that told the president just how the redhead knew. Trust him to just go ahead and put everything in his mouth. In that aspect, Rufus suspected that Reno had never learned the lesson 'don't put things in your mouth'. Or was he just extremely confident of his constitution? Likely; his body, just like the rest of the crew's, was resistant to most pathogens and poison, and the Turks could take most wounds and bear it with far less repercussions than an ordinary man. That did not mean they were immortal, however, and Reno should know that; their mutated bodies had a few perks, such as no aging and rapid healing, but it also came with drawbacks, like infertility and suddenly dropping dead in their sixties. Eternal youth was a double-edged sword.

"Do we have a way to know what they're cutting with?" Rufus asked.

"We can have people run tests, sir, but that might take time," Tseng said quietly. "It might be just faster to find the lab."

"Well, with any luck we'd get one step closer tonight," Reno answered, fidgeting. "The ladies here got some leads, so we're gonna squeeze some info out of these boys. I'll need Rude and Arien for that."

Elena did not look displeased at the aspect of being left out, and Reno suspected it was because Tseng was going to remain in Healin, not because she didn't want to take a part in some action. She was also far too zealous for his comfort and too rash, even now. Arien was too cautious, Elena was too reckless. Wasn't there a comfortable middle?

"Excellent," said Tseng. "Use warehouse two. That should be somewhat empty. I want Arien reporting as soon as you get anything useful." Nobody argued with the choice of the reporter. Reno tended to get distracted by anything larger than a bee and Rude kept his words to an excruciating minimum.

The meeting was adjourned with Rufus' imperial nod, and the three left the cabin to face the heat once again. They had a two-hour drive back to the Edge, and then they had a long night ahead of them. "Better grab something to eat before we get to those boys," Reno murmured to the woman. "I'm starving."

"Why do you need me anyway?" She asked, frowning. "It's not like I'd make a good beater."

"Yeah, but you know which questions to ask, and how." Reno shrugged as he got into the driver's seat. "Rude's too quiet and I usually ask the wrong questions."

She raised an eyebrow at that, but said nothing as she climbed into the back seat. Reno was driving, which meant he'd blast music all the way back to the Edge. His music selection tended to be rather random, and she wondered if she could catch some shuteye before the interrogation, and doubted it; he also drove wildly, swerving in every way but straight, and paid no attention to speed limits. All in all, he was rather speed-crazy and an irresponsible driver. The only saving grace was that he had never actually caused an accident and that he could get out of an area faster than anyone else when it came to evacuation. Which was the only reason why Rufus allowed Reno to drive.

The car pulled out smoothly from its spot, and sped down the ramp down at what could only be a dangerous speed to the base of the cliff, then onto the path which led them back to the Edge, bouncing on the asphalt that someone didn't bother to smooth out. There was a metallic tang in the air, as if the atmosphere was charged with electricity, and Reno narrowed his eyes as his nose smelled blood. Was it just in some anticipation for tonight, or was there actually blood somewhere that lent its fragrance to the night?

"Hey Arie," he said to the woman behind him, "see anything odd?"

"Mffgh." Came the muffled reply. She must have been asleep. She slept whenever she could, and he was beginning to wonder if she was actually a sloth in human disguise. She could be all active and ready to go when she was awake, but she slept far too often. "What?" She wrinkled her nose. "Why does it smell like blood?"

So it wasn't him hallucinating. Someone, or something, had bled out here, lending the air with it bitter perfume. Reno took note to get out of the area as soon as he could, which preferably meant now. He speeded, stepping on the gas, eager to get out of the area. If there was a monster out there, the last thing he wanted was for it to attack the vehicle. Especially when they had a grab-bag assignment tonight; these things too nerves, something that was wearing down at an alarming speed these days.

Thanks to Reno's reckless driving, it took an hour and fifteen minutes, as opposed to two hours to get to the Edge. Reno pulled up to the back of their apartment.

"How're we supposed to bag him?" Arien asked as Reno unlocked the door.

"Well…" Reno thought for a moment as Arien went to the kitchen. "How big's the guy?"

"Your size," Rude's voice answered.

"Okay. Guess Arien won't be slinging him on the shoulder."

"Probably not," the woman agreed as she pulled some bread out of a cupboard. "Ham okay?"

"Um, yeah." He sat down in front of Rude, who was sitting on the sofa. "Can you grab him?"

Rude silently nodded.

"Okay. We'll need a Jenny, a Trent, and a Barney." He paused. "I guess Arie's the Jenny."

"Do hookers buy?"

"They buy Hyper," the redhead said. "Makes sex better for them. Shoot it up and any rod'll send a girl to the big o. And guys really dig girls comin' for some reason."

"Nice to know." She set a plate of sandwiches on the coffee table. "So I'm Jenny. I guess Rude's Barney?"

Rude nodded silently as Reno reached for a sandwich. "All set then. Man, I'm starving." Arien nodded at Rude, urging him to eat; only after her permission did he reach for a sandwich. The tang of mayonnaise hit his mouth, and the big burly man nodded his approval as the sharp cheese, the cucumber, and the ham made a nice medley of flavours. Arien excelled in the kitchen, that much Rude knew, but it wasn't very often he got to take advantage of her culinary skills, unless she was cooking something for Rufus.

Reno and Rude were still eating when Arien stood up and disappeared into the bedroom. Twenty minutes later, she reappeared. Reno looked at her.

"Need more makeup." He said, chewing.

"Ugh. Are you serious?"

"Yeah." He reached for another sandwich. "Need more eyeliner."

"I'm going to look like a panda," she grumbled as she disappeared back into the bedroom. Reno shrugged, then reached for one of the last two sandwiches.

When she re-emerged a few minutes later, Reno nodded in satisfaction. Dressed in a two-tone mini-dress with a black skirt and a white low cowl-neck top, she looked like a party girl… or a hooker. She looked annoyed as she untangled her unbound hair away from the large, dangling earrings.

"Hi babe," Reno grinned. Rude was chewing on the last bite of the sandwich.

Arien complained. "Why do these dresses never have any place to stash a gun?"

"Because hookers don't need a gun, except, well, you know…" He grinned as Arien waved the rest of the sentence away. She was getting better with these lewd jokes, not getting tense every time Reno made one. "Ready?"

"Good question. Why can't you be the Jenny for a change?"

"I happen to have a pair dangling between my legs. You have a pair on your chest. That apparently makes a huge difference."

"Ugh." She groaned. "I'm going to have to carry the shoes."

"And wear something over that excuse of a dress. Looks more like a shirt."

After Arien pulled a very large T shirt on over the hooker outfit and wore sensible shoes, the Rude and Arien left the apartment. They went off to Violetta's on foot. There were people about, doing last minute errands and going off to their destinations at a hurried pace. Arien was acutely aware of the distance between their bodies as they walked, making them distinctly a non-couple, even though both were confident and had the same kind of expression on their faces and would have looked perfect as one; Rude's masculinity to offset her femininity, his bulk to her slenderness. But they just didn't look like an item, despite everything that would make them look good together; their strengths were independent of each other, and while that wasn't bad, it didn't lend itself to making them look together either. They were simply walking together, looking good.

And despite everything that made them look too similar of one another to look good as a couple, Reno and she looked like a couple whenever they went somewhere, which was the reason why Reno had been visiting Violetta and Rude was checking in at the One Two Two. She wondered why; Reno and she were both too pale, too skinny, too… well, too similar, all in all. But despite all that, they fit together, like a pair of gloves.

Violetta's was just a few yards away, and they stopped, allowing Arien to pull the T shirt off and switch her shoes to a pair of stilettos that put her well above most women and more than half men. Rude opened the door, and they were in.

Reno must have called Violetta before they had arrived, for the owner of the brothel intercepted them. "Our redheaded friend called," the woman said, her voice barely audible above the din of the music. Rude winced at the heavy beat, but said nothing. "Room 21 is open."She handed Rude a key. "And you look lovely, dear."

Arien, who found herself wondering if Reno had ever slept with this woman, started. "Um, thank you," she stammered, then cursed herself for being caught off-guard. _Not very professional, Arien,_ she warned herself. The woman was a stark opposite of her, all curves where Arien was angles, womanly guiles when she used logic to force the issue. She was struck with just how unfeminine she must appear to men, and silently wondered what on earth Reno had been thinking when he had set his eyes on her.

_Give Reno some rest and trust him this once. He knew what kind of a girl you are, Arien,_ came a small voice, and she tried to regain her mental footing. Maybe the key to becoming softer was to just let go and think about him whenever she liked, but she couldn't afford it. This probably won't be a life-threatening mission but one could never be so sure, and she knew she wasn't good enough to have divided attention. As her father had told her, divided attention was going to get her killed someday.

"Thank you," she murmured. "For everything."

"Reno and I go way back. No worries."

_Argh. He must have slept with her._

But her doubts were replaced by surprise when Violetta winked at her. "I've never slept with him, though," said the voluptuous woman. "Don't worry, dear."

"What?"

"You were wondering if I ever slept with him," she said to Arien's one-worded interjection smoothly. "You're his girlfriend, aren't you?"

This time, Arien raised an eyebrow. "How did you know?"

Violetta smiled. "I can tell a lot of things from just looking at a woman," she said, her voice smooth as butter. "You also smell like him. And when do scents ever mingle except in bed?" There was a tinkle of laughter, almost like a purr, from her throat. "He's a good man, although he pretends not to be. I approve."

_Why do I need her approval?_ Arien wondered, but then Violetta winked. "Us girls need to stick together, dear. Especially now. It's not safe anymore." She then gestured with her chin. "He's here. Good luck."

Rude nodded once, then disappeared down the corridor. Arien walked over, then tapped the man on the shoulder, felt the man's eyes immediately latch onto her breasts that were playing peekaboo amidst the folds of the cloth. "Hi," he said, smelling of tobacco mixed with aldehyde and dust. "I've never seen you before, have I?"

Arien shook her head, shrugging her shoulders, aware that as she did so the folds of the cloth moved, allowing him another peek. She decided not to tell Reno any of it, lest he'd go postal and pull out his gun and empty the magazine into this poor dunce.

He looked at her, saw her slender white arms, the swell of her breasts, the dark painted lips and the heavily kohled eyes. He sometimes had sex with the girls who came to him for drugs - usually instead of payment - and he secretly decided that he'd rather have her pay with her body instead. Although she probably won't feel as good - she was too slim for that - she was a pretty thing.

"What do you have for me?" She whispered into his ear with a whiff of musky perfume.

"What do _you_ have for me?" he replied.

"Well, the thing is, I don't have much cash left, but-"

"I can take other payments," he said, sticking his hand into his pocket and fumbling for a condom. "You have a room?"

The girl nodded then led him, her hips swaying as she walked. Violetta didn't allow transactions anywhere but the private rooms. But that would work out for him just fine.


	8. An Altercation Below the Danceroom Floor

\- Reno and Arien will indeed meet them. And yes, they're the Evan and Kyrie from Turks: The Kids are Alright. They'll be coming up soon (as in, less than 7 chapters). We'll meet Evan first, then Kyrie, and I'll be integrating that plot arc.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - I'm just feeling faint. Standing up's a chore. But I can sit up, so it's not that big of a deal. Mitchie's coming up soon as well. The planning's taking a bit longer than usual, because I have a novel to integrate.

Chapter 7: An Altercation Below the Dance Room Floor

* * *

Reno rounded to the back of the brothel, smelling the filth and nearly gagging. Hooker dens always smelled awful where the owners thought the customers won't see it. He waited, the baton uncharged but ready to strike. When they came, they'd come quickly, and he'd have about a tenth of a second to react before they could get away clean… or things could get really ugly.

There was a heavy thrum of music from the inside, and he wondered what was taking them so long. Was Arien having trouble getting the dealer off the floor? Maybe. Arien had the tell-tale stiffness of an amateur when it came to seduction, something that he had never really gotten around to training her out of. Perhaps there was a certain reluctance to the idea of it, he amended. He liked her bewildered and inexperienced.

The air was definitely getting a little chillier than before, and Reno blew away at the strand that was in his vision. An ominous mist was coming out of nowhere, enshrouding the town with its soft organza of haze that did nothing to improve his mood or his vie. It seeped in from the cracks, through the open doors; the air was foul, fetid and lukewarm, and he felt unclean, and not in a good way either. What the hell were they doing? Was Arien actually blowing the guy or something? At least he was inside, he amended; when he had come in, rain was beginning to fall, and no doubt it was still going.

He was getting agitated. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one, trying to calm his nerves. Man, he hadn't been this nervous since… well, since his first year as a Turk. That had been one hell of a nerve-wracking mission after mission, and most of it had been reduced to a haze of memories that made little sense or coherence in his head.

"Fuck," he said to himself. Time was precious, he felt vulnerable, and right now their collective asses were hanging in the wind just begging for someone to put a bullet right between the cheeks, so to speak. He felt he was entitled to feel nervous. There were more dustheads, shitheads, pissers and stonelickers than he cared for in the room with his girlfriend, and here he was, a sitting duck with nothing he could do.

There was a noise, and he stopped, tensing. Someone running? Shouts and screams, although people never paid attention to them at Violetta's; some people were into sadomasochism a bit too much for their own good. There was a crash, and then the rapid footsteps were getting closer. Reno narrowed his eyes, standing so that the door would not hit him should it slam open, and slam it did, when a very terrified man came bursting out of the doorway, making a beeline for the exit.

Reno swung the baton, his cigarette dropping onto the ground as he swung, the uncharged rod making a solid connection with just below the sternum. The man groaned in pain then doubled over, falling to the ground. Reno looked at the fallen cigarette with regret; he'd just waited half a cig for this moron. He then looked in the direction of the doorway, where Rude and Arien stood, looking aggravated.

"I thought it was your damn job to knock this douchebag out so I won't have to do it, _Barney_," he grumbled. "What the fuck was that about?"

"The drug didn't work," Arien said, throwing the syringe onto the ground with disgust. "The idiot got Rude between the legs then made a run for it."

"It didn't work?"

"Either the thing's expired or he's built tolerance. Not sure which."

"Well, shit." He kicked the man in the gut when he struggled to get up. "Stay down," he warned, "or I'll rip your balls off and feed it through your ass."

"You're gonna… catch hell!" The man croaked. "I'll tell this to my boss, you're all gonna die."

"Like I haven't heard that before," the redhead snorted. "If I got a gil every time someone told that to me, I'd be as rich as Rufus fuckin' Shinra. Now, you're gonna come with us."

"Fuck you, punk!"

"Is that really all you can come up with? You need a lesson in bad-assery, pronto." Reno shrugged. "Get up. Oh, and if you even so much as twitch without being ordered, this lady here's gonna shoot your balls off." He pulled out his Jericho and handed it to Arien with a flourish of a spin, who did a press check to make sure a round was chambered.

"Like she can do anything except have a cock in her mouth."

He was rewarded with a muzzle in front of his face. "What was that?" the woman said sweetly. "I'm sorry, I think my finger might be slipping…"

The fear emanating from the man was almost palpable. He nodded fearfully, and did not protest when Reno blindfolded and gagged the man; hands bound, the man was forced to walk, guided only by the cold metal that kept prodding him in the back. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to run to, and a blindfolded and gagged man wasn't something so abnormal at the whorehouse to alert anyone. He was grandly screwed.

And his captors knew this very well. And yet they refused to relax their vigilance, and that much he knew from the way the footsteps fell in rhythm to his own, the proximity of the bodies around him. He could perhaps make a run for it again, but to what avail? The big burly one was obviously the muscle of the group, and it was likely he'd just break a few bones to make him comply. The redhead seemed to be the leader of the group, and so the woman must have been bait… but something told him that she could act in more than that capacity. They were a dangerous bunch, all in all, and the captive was starting to doubt his ability to handle this by himself.

But why now? His thoughts wandered; he had been peddling drugs to whores and crackheads for a decade, and never had anyone paid any attention to them. Why? Was the Edge some battle zone for druglords? Perhaps, but then he'd know about it; he'd always been careful not to get caught in the crossfire. So it must be something else.

His thoughts were interrupted by the hot air that told him they were outside. And then there was a hit in his stomach and the world blacked out.

* * *

Arien kept a lookout as the two men heaved the body into the back of the SUV. Reno did a quick job of tying up the man's feet as well, and then they rolled the body onto the vinyl-covered back portion of the vehicle and not gently either. She stood, pistol against her cheek. Jericho was Reno's sidearm, not hers, and the grip was unfamiliar against her palm in comparison to her Sig. The pistol had a more slender feel in her grip, and the trigger didn't have the weight of her Glock. All in all, it wasn't very much her gun.

The lukewarm wind and the mist glued the clothes to the body, and Arien secretly envied the other two men with their cotton shirts. The dress, made of quite possibly the cheapest synthetic fibre mankind had come up with, had absolutely no circulation and stuck to her flesh like some wet rubber. The fog had definitely sucked up the air pollution, still evident two years after the demise of the corrupt metropolis, half-cloaking the moving figures in a cataract of achromatic hue. The asphalt was wet, making a grit of a noise as she moved her foot. The heels were starting to make her feet feel uncomfortable. During the day the town would be filled with noises - Reno and Rude were also overseeing the construction of the monument in the middle of the square, ostensibly to commemorate those who had died in the Meteor Crisis, although everyone pertinent knew that this was just Rufus' ploy to make sure they'd have the space for the Shinra Tower 2.0 - but it was quieter now, just the noises of people shuffling through the streets, taking care of their own business and trying to get home. It was a sound of life, pulsing, ebbing like a tide with the sundown.

"All-right, all set," came Reno's voice, sounding slightly muffled. He came up to her, looking a little concerned when he saw her. "Everything okay?"

"No," she said, scowling. "My feet're starting to kill me."

"Oh." He paid an appropriate glance to her footwear, then nodded sagely. "Yeah, I'd be dead by now."

"Thanks," she said dryly. "Shall we go?"

"Yeah." He took back the Jericho and re-holstered it. Arien click-clacked to the back seat of the car and slid in, taking care to cover her thighs as much as the skirt allowed, which wasn't much at all.

The next stop - One Two Two - was easier than the previous; for one thing, this man didn't seem to have the tolerance for the drug as much as the previous mark did, and the man dropped as soon as Arien delivered the shot. She struggled with the dead weight as she tried to juggle the body in the toilet cubicle. Rude came in, took the body off her hands, and Reno swiftly blindfolded and gagged the body. Everything happened within three minutes, and then they were dragging the body out from the club through the back door. Another body was dumped next to the one already present in the back, and then they were off to their destination, where they'd commence the actual business for the evening. The grab job was only a prelude.

Warehouse 2 was one of the warehouses that the Turks had kept empty, and when Reno and Rude dragged the first body in, a smell of stale concrete hit their noses. There were no windows, just a bare bulb hanging above their heads; Reno brought a chair, Rude tied the man to it, and then they moved to haul the second body in. There were muffled groans from both, but the Turks methodically ignored the two.

"Ugh," Reno grumbled as he half-carried, half-dragged the second man in; he was a bit more portly than the previous, with a layer of fat that added to the bulk of the body, making it harder to manoeuvre. "Would it kill for these assholes to lose some weight?"

Rude said nothing; it might be that this particular fellow is on the big side, but Reno wasn't exactly a man-tower either. The redhead was suited to acrobatic movements and light-footed work, not bruiser. It had fallen to Rude to take that role. And Arien, well… she relied on her firearms far too much, in Rude's opinion. When the defences fell, the last line was the body, not bullets. Perhaps she thought she'd be good enough to avoid that particular event, but one never knew. It was always better to have both in the arsenal, rather than just one.

Arien remained in the car a few minutes longer as the men dragged the bodies around, changing from her skimpy excuse of a dress to something a little more practical. The uniform would give her identity away, and she wasn't sure what Reno and Rude planned to do with the bodies. The plastic bag on the seat next to her had a simple grey T shirt and a pair of trousers, and she donned them, struggling to move about in such close quarters; her elbows got in the way as she tried to pull the shirt on, and she had to move her legs in odd angles to pull the jeans on.

_How many times do I have to change in a vehicle?_ She absently wondered as she shrugged the double holster on. A quick press check, just to make sure - she had returned the Jericho to the owner - and then the Sig and the Glock went into the left and the right respectively. She felt much better armed. The gravel made a scritching noise as she stepped down from the SUV; there was a hint of stale sweat in the air as she stepped into the warehouse.

Despite the heat, the interior of the warehouse was cold; there was no insulation, nor air control, and the place was about as big as a gymnasium, enough for some two hundred people to dance in. In such a large place, five people felt oddly small as a number. Arien rubbed her arms, feeling the goosebumps rise; she felt slightly useless as she waited for the men to finish setting the men up into their respective chairs in their partitions. She shook her hair out from its languid loops, letting the black locks fall about her face. She was running her fingers through to get the snarls out when Reno came out.

"Hey," he said. "You look better."

"I look more like myself," Arien corrected, then took the elastic out from between her lips and put her hair up in a ponytail. "How're they?"

"Both conscious. The fat dude's a little less terrified. The skinny guy's about to shit his trousers."

"I'm sure we can communicate with both. I speak fluent gun."

"Just don't kill the douche before he spits up the info we need."

She smirked. "I'm a pro, Reno." With that, she walked into the warehouse, leaving Reno a few steps behind, her dark ponytail trailing behind her.

* * *

Arien had just finished delivering the terms when Rude had come in, on cue. It was a standard interrogation technique, and she had first learned it when she had been training as a Section B member of the Sector of Intelligence. Her codename had been the Page of Sword back then, and she had taken the role as the official interrogator for the section when she had finished her training. She had quickly progressed to the other sections, but the techniques she had learned as a Sword was useful, even now.

The fat man sat, tied up and rendered immobile. Arien had been straddling the chair backwards, and turned her head as Rude came in. "What's going on?" she asked, twirling the Sig in her hand. When words didn't do, a colloquial piece of brass was extremely effective in persuading people.

Rude's face remained impassive. "You might want to hear this," said the big burly man.

"Oh?"

Rude nodded, arms crossed. "Right," she said, standing up. "Keep watch, please," she said, then walked out of the partitioned cubicle.

Time for act two.

She opened the door - flimsy thing and easily kicked in by the likes of her - and slid into the room. "Well," she said, crossing her arms. Reno sat in the other chair, looking bored, which made him look even more dangerous. There was a large knife in his hand, which he kept twirling expertly.

"Well?" Reno asked, as scripted.

"Looks like you boys need to be a little more trusting," Arien said coolly. "The other one cracked. And it took" - she took a look at her watch - "an hour. Must be some kind of a record."

The man trembled.

"Great." Reno grinned. "So it's my show now?"

"I suppo-" her words were interrupted by a scream of "I'll talk!", and she smiled in satisfaction. "I guess not," she said to the redhead. "After all, he said he's going to talk."

"Damn."

The prisoner's dilemma had been a theoretical idea a few decades ago, but some sick, twisted bastard had taken it and perfected it as an interrogation technique that was built on fear and doubt. It also only worked when there were two prisoners who knew something of each other, and therefore Arien didn't have much experience with it in comparison to the other techniques.

She walked back to the partition, where the fat man awaited the report. She gave it to him and Rude without much fanfare, as if this was nothing to be taken seriously. "The other one cracked," she said, all nonchalance while carefully studying the fat captive's face for expressions and hints to his thoughts.

"What?!" the man hissed. "That bastard, I'll kill him with my own two hands, I will! I'll eat his balls alive for breakfast!"

"I doubt that's an appetising breakfast," she commented dryly. "Anyway, I guess I should just kill you now, since you didn't break and the other one did. Admirable, though, I'll give you that. Now-"

"Hang on!" The man interrupted, fear in his eyes. _Good._ "Can I… can I still talk?"

"I don't know. Can you?" _Don__'t sound too enthusiastic, Arien._

"I'll talk, I'll talk!" the man stammered. "I'll answer any question you have. Just please, please let me go! Please!" The last word came out with tears and snot. She remembered her own torture, and felt slight pity but mostly disgust. She had kept her mouth shut, regardless of what happened to herself. These men were disloyal to boot, and that disgusted her.

"Well, fine," she said. "Who's the boss?"

"Dunno, man, I really don't know!" More blubbering. "I, I only see the guy who gives me the stuff! I really don't know! I swear!"

"All-right." No point pushing for an answer that he didn't have. "Where can I find this distributor?"

She was rewarded with silence. She raised an eyebrow.

"I guess you don't want to live…"

"I do, I do, I really do, but they'll kill me if I talk!"

"Or we'll kill you instead. It's die now or die later."

"His, his name's Danny! Danny Warren!" The man was shrieking. "I, I meet him in an apartment! 23A Street Five! I swear, that's all I know! Now please let me go!"

She turned to see Rude; she didn't know what Reno had decided to do with these two. Letting them go seemed unlikely, but she wasn't about to presume. Rude, however, shook his head, ever so slightly, but still a clear message: these boys couldn't go back to their druglords alive. It was their own folly that had brought them here, and no one had asked them to sell drugs.

She pulled out her Sig. It was so simple; Thumb the safety, unlock it, then pull the trigger. The double-action made even cocking unnecessary. Simple pull of the trigger. That was all.

Her face was impassive as she aimed, casually, with the enthusiasm of a woman about to polish shoes; a squeeze of a trigger and the man was dead, his life cut short by a single bullet. She heard a gunshot from next door, knew that the Jericho had discharged a single round, instead of a nasty crunch from a baton colliding into the skull.

"What are we going to do about the bodies?" She asked Rude. Reno, who had come into the room, leaned onto the doorway, his lanky frame looking lankier in the cold, harsh light.

"There's an entire desert out there," Reno shrugged. "Drive the bodies out, leave them out there. The birds'll do the rest."

She nodded. Reno was a man when there was no one else around, but when he was on a job, there was nothing but an operative, cold and ruthless. Behind the grinning face of a harlequin lived a deadly assassin, a man who would kill and have moral qualms later.

If there was a later.


	9. Guests in the Midnight

\- I have the novel. I didn't read the translation, because in my opinion it wasn't very accurate. Granted, the novel itself's no Jack London; the time sequence is a little confusing, and the guy who wrote it is no writer he. But now that I have some idea of what the Turks were doing in the interim, I see no reason NOT to use it. We get to see Evan quite soon.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - This one's taking a little more time to write, I'm afraid, because there are about five plots going on at once that coalesces into one action. That, and I'm trying to change my writing style so it sounds a little more natural (C'est la Vie was a little stilted, even after re-write). Reno's lingo in English is a little harder to write.

And we're off!

Chapter 8: Guests in the Midnight

* * *

"We're off," said Reno to his mate. "See ya later."

Arien nodded, then drove off. She'd go back to the apartment before the two men, since women, even after everything that had happened, weren't treated with respect. It was just better for Reno and Rude to go and beat the information out of the distributor, instead of her. There was a slight off-chance that the man'd see a woman and would treat her partner with contempt, which would not do. Besides, Rude was far larger in size and bulk.

People were still up and about, wandering around the town for whatever reason; Midgarians went to bed late still, an old habit that had carried over from the sleepless metropolis. Midgar had never slept, and consequently the former residents of the broken city saw no reason to change that now. After all, nighttime bred vices like rats, and the people of Midgar somewhat prided themselves for indulging in them and providing the most variety to an assortment of customers. You literally could just waltz out and enter an S&amp;M sex club at a whimsy, get tripping, and drink yourself to chaos within the span of fifteen minutes. Although the Edge was nowhere close to its predecessor in its efficiency to serve the degenerate, it was trying really hard.

Reno's baton was tucked into his trousers, and his pistol was tucked into his belt. Rude's Desert Eagle was at his hip. Despite the concealed carry, however, people still gave them a wide berth. Perhaps it was the way Rude walked, perhaps it was Reno's eyes that told the passers-by that these were dangerous predators. Or maybe it was just their game faces; every Turk had one, although the frequency of the appearance varied from member to member. Arien, Tseng, and Rude almost wore it constantly, while Reno and Elena tended to wear them less. But when they did wear them, they couldn't hide the gaze of a hunter from those who paid attention to such things.

Reno's boots slapped against the asphalt as ehe walked. "He better be there," He muttered. "I'm knackered."

"He'll be there," Rude muttered.

"Yeah, well, I need to sleep, man. I'm running out of caffeine." Rude did not bother telling him that he and caffeine weren't as good of a pair as he believed it to be. "Better hurry," the redhead continued blithely. "The fatso said they were gonna meet up in-"

"-five minutes."

"Yeah. Don't wanna disappoint him."

They hurried through the dark alleys and slid into a dilapidated building that had clearly seen some better days in the past. There were a few broken windows, papered up with waxed sheets that made the building look like a gaping maw with missing teeth. No white curtains for the windows here; some glass panes were stained with gods only knew what. Reno was beginning to appreciate his own abode with a newfound vigour. Living here would _suck_.

There were no security measures to prevent intruders from dropping in for random visits for this building; no intercom, no double-locks. The pair entered - Reno pulled his baton out, and Rude pulled on a pair of gloves - and began to climb upstairs, their footsteps echoing against the concrete as they made their way. Guns were too noisy, although with the amount of bedlam going on in some of the apartments, both doubted if anyone'd notice if Reno got angry and randomly emptied the magazine into a nearby wall.

"What's the number?" Reno hissed under the breath.

"Twenty-Three."

"Right." He walked across the walkway and stood in front of the door numbered 23. "'Kay. Here we go." Pulling out his Baby Eagle, Reno backed a step then kicked at the door.

Normal people might not have been able to kick doors in. However, Reno was a Turk, and Reno kicked whenever he could instead of using his fists. As the result, his kick was something that could tear down a solid door. For a slender man, the redhead could use his weapons to an extreme effect, and his martial training had allowed him to launch kicks at extreme speed and accuracy. A door stood no chance.

"Hey," he grinned as he pointed at the man standing in middle of a filthy living room with his gun, his baton held at the ready, "care to answer a few questions?"

If Reno and Rude had expected the man to put up some fight, they were mistaken. The man, about the same size as Reno but definitely less able when it came to a brawl, nearly fainted into his bowl of cereal that he was eating standing up. It gave him no credit that the man was in nothing but underwear. He crumbled onto the floor and let go of the bladder, spilling urine and milk everywhere. Reno wrinkled his nose immediately as Rude moved swiftly to throw the man onto the filthy floor, hands held behind the back and stomach down. Reno walked in, trying not to gag at the odour; it was a putrid mix of old pizza, semen, unwashed bodies, vomit, stale booze that had gone sour, and now urine and milk. He decided that he will just vomit on the guy if needed. It wouldn't make much difference, would it?

The door closed behind him, and Reno pointed his Jericho at the man's head. "Few questions, then I'll get outta your hair," he said.

"The… the boss'll kill me!" The man wailed.

"I'll cry you a river when I get around to it," the redhead drawled. "The hyper pipers you've been dishing out like breath mints. Where d'you get those from, eh?"

The man wasn't listening. "Please don't kill me! Please!" He shrieked at the top of his lungs. "I'll do anything! Really!"

"Maaan, what the hell did I do to deserve _this_ job? I get to ask a blubbering shithead questions while standing in piss," he muttered under his breath, then regretted wasting his breath when the stench assaulted his nose with a renewed vigour. "It's answer or bullet, buddy," he said, crouching, the gun still pointed at the head. Guns were excellent conversation openers, especially when pointed at places like heads and crotch. Arien hadn't been overestimating her abilities when she said she spoke fluent gun.

"I, I don't know!" The man, who evidently had heard Reno's question this time, shrieked at the top of his lungs. "I just pick them up from this place! I swear to god!"

"Okay. Need the address, then I might let you go."

The man shouted the address out, as if Reno and Rude were deaf. They weren't, especially Rude, whose enhanced hearing would hear a pin drop a mile away; needless to say, the sudden increase of volume hit the bald man like a shockwave and he recoiled for a moment. The captive male seized the chance and tried to bolt, but Reno was already there… or, technically, the baton was, swung as hard as the wielder could and with unerring accuracy. The metal rod crunched into the man's skull and the drug dealer fell to the ground again, quite plainly dead. Blood was seeping out from the visible orifices in a steady trickle as he fell to the floor with a thud.

"Stupid git," the Turk said to another.

Rude rubbed at his temples. "You weren't going to let him go," he asked in a form of a statement.

"Nah." The redhead grinned like a cat. A big, tri-coloured bobcat, if such thing existed. "He's still a dumbass, though. Can we get the hell outta here? I'm about to lose my dinner."

"…" Rude raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, yeah, that."

The two men raided the place, making it look as if it was a casual and random robbery and not something else. They doubted the dons would take notice this very night, but one couldn't be too sure, and the more time they got between the killing and the discovery, the better. The last thing they needed was for the drug don to notice that someone was moving against them. There'd be a drop-off two days hence, and until then, no one'd care that one drug dealer had been wiped off from the list of the living. After that… well, neither Reno nor Rude wanted to stick around to see what happened. Especially Reno.

"Junkie and flunkie and dunkie and shithead," The lanky man hummed as he took the stash of cash in the safe that Rude has casually broken, "douchebag and bulletsack, and shitbag and crackhead." Rude didn't comment on the song that was grossly out of season. "Guns, bullets, more guns. And drugs. Cheap, affordable drugs. Man, it smells worse than Palmer's toilet in here."

The name of the unlamented exec made Rude grin, but otherwise elicited no response. The raid was over in but a few minutes, and then the two men were out the door, carrying a knapsack. Arien'd be downstairs, waiting in the car; Rude had called while Reno had been riffling through the dead man's belongings.

Sure enough, she was, wrinkling her nose as she stuck her head out the driver's seat. "This place smells awful," she commented as Reno put the sack down in the backseat. "Does poverty turn the nose off or something?"

"No, just bathing." Reno climbed into the passenger seat.

"The job?"

"Got an address. Pick-up's in two days. 'Til then…" a shrug, as the woman pulled out from the space and onto the street. There was little traffic now, with the shortage of vehicles and the time besides. "I need a shower."

"Are you going to stay, Rude?" The woman asked as she turned the corner to the right. The big man shook his head, which Reno saw from the rearview mirror.

"Gonna take the car back?"

A nod.

"All-right, then. Take the bag with you. Tseng'll want to catalogue and file and inventory this shit to death." He leaned back into the seat. "What a night."

* * *

Reno saw Rude drive off with the loot, then went back into the apartment. A quick shower was in order before going to bed; he felt filthy. The water felt good on his body, but he really wanted to cut the bathing time short and crash. Boy, was he tired.

Arien knew his habits well, and when he got out, he found his underwear ready to be worn on the shelf by the towels. Brushing his teeth was the biggest chore of the day, and then he ambled into the dark bedroom. His eyes felt dry and he blinked once then twice, trying to make his eyes focus as they tried to just give up.

"Man, I'm tired," Reno said, as he crashed into the bed. "Arie?"

The response was a series of quiet, calm breaths that told him Arien was asleep. The scent of warm air and a whiff of cologne rose to mingle with the herbal smell that was Arien as he sank into the mattress. In the faint darkness, her face was a geometric arrangement of silhouettes and shadows, giving the soft curve of her cheeks a sense of mystery; a creature of black and white, with no colour, the beauty in the shape and not for the chromatic. Again, his opposite.

He shifted his weight at the hip, which woke her up. She had never been a deep sleeper without him in bed with her to begin with. "Reno…?" She murmured, then gasped. "God! Your feet are freezing!"

"I took a shower."

She turned slightly toward him. "I told-" a yawn. "I told Tseng." She rubbed her cheek against the pillow slightly, then made no more noise as she sped back to slumber. Reno was tired, but he found himself unable to fall asleep. The adrenaline rush was not completely out of his system. He wanted to sleep, but his body refused to let him. He wasn't happy about the sudden emergence of the drug dealers who clearly had no concern to keep their customers coming back. What was up with the emergence of a new town and idiots having aspirations to join the next graduating class of bananas? The last time he checked, joining that particular class had no lasting benefits, except maybe a premature trip to the eternal resting place six feet under.

There was a buzz on his mobile, interrupting his speculations, and Reno sluggishly extended his arm to reach his phone. Just who the hell would be texting him at this hour of the morning anyway? Tseng would have just called, regardless of the hour; Rude wouldn't bother. Phones were too rare these days to send drunken texts. He tapped the screen to life and squinted, hiding the pale white glow away from the sleeping woman next to him.

"…Zen?" He murmured under his breath in surprise. "The hell?"

Zen Flescher was Arien's former partner during her Intelligence days. He was also Arien's best friend's spanking new husband; Ivy and he had gotten married in a whirlwind wedding soon after the Meteor Crisis. Reno also didn't particularly like him; during his and Arien's forced separation that had lasted way too long in his opinion, Ivy and Zen had contrived to keep them apart. He knew the two had meant to keep Arien safe, but still, he was allowed to hold grudges, wasn't he? It wasn't like he was personally friends with the blond man to begin with.

The message was short and to the point. He frowned, trying to figure out just what exactly the sender had in mind when he had sent this message. Was that blond git going to try to drive a wedge in between them again? Was that it? Reno knew that many years ago, Zen Flescher had once fancied Arien for some reason that he still hadn't _quite_ figured out. He also had no idea why Zen had just given up and went to her best friend instead. The man's inner workings were a complete mystery.

Was Ivy behind this? Ivy had once been his champion, but since the separation she barely tolerated him. The only deliverance he had was that the two didn't bother trying to tell Arien she'd be better off with someone else; but that might have been because Arien was visibly happier when she was with him. But otherwise, he always felt as if he was going to have to dodge a salvo. Which wasn't pleasant at all.

Of course, there was Axil and Siva, and then Felicita and Shivvalan, who were collectively friends of the couple. Axil and Reno had been extremely good friends, if not the best, and he got on with Shivvalan well. Arien was friends with Siva and Felicita from her Intelligence days; the ladies made no judgements of each others' partners, and the boys were of be and let be brand when it came to relationships. It had taken their help to reunite Arien and him, and he could not thank them enough. Lost in the midst of the newly sprouting Edge, it would have taken months for him to find her; oh, he had no doubt he would have found her, but he wanted to find her sooner than later.

He reached over and gathered her into his arms. Her warmth was a comfort, and he nuzzled her neck as she slept; she was a fairly inert sleeper, unlike him, who tossed and turned and sometimes ended up upside down as he slumbered. She remained in his arms without struggling as he curved his body against her lithe form. Her dark hair was still damp. He closed his eyes, inhaling, trying to calm his nerves down; the night had gotten less dark as the months passed, as more places operated well past midnight, trying to boost income. Midgar had been a city that never slept, and the Midgarians were far too used to all-day all-night conveniences.

He eventually fell asleep, his sleep dreamless; no flames, no screams, no blood marred his torpor that night, just the peace that would refresh the mind and body alike. The guilt would perhaps come later, much later; it was unlikely, as the men he had killed this night were no innocents, and ending this contraband distribution would only save people from unnecessary pain. But for once, he didn't feel as if he was still running around the gutters of the city underworld. He didn't mind it, but sometimes it was nice to stroll in the sun.


	10. A Girlfriend's Friend

\- Thanks again for the review! I really appreciate it (seriously... it always makes my day when I see a review notification in my inbox!). I'm actually Japanese, so Japanese is my first language.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - The timeline for Turks:The Kids Are Alright is really ambiguous. It's hard to figure stuff out, sometimes to the point of who's speaking what. I really need to catch up on writing...

Four days late. New chap coming on Friday, then it's back to schedule. So keep posted!

Chapter 9: A Girlfriend's Friend, a Friend's Girlfriend

* * *

The meeting was at seven, a rather odd time for him to go out for leisure; but he was off that day, and so had no problems meeting up with the caller at the specified time. Arien did not say much about it, merely asked him about the meal, and then he went on his way to have a talk with a man he necessarily did not like. Zen had a history of trying to break him up with Arien, and Reno wasn't really the one to forget grudges. Oh, he didn't really pay attention to them often, sure, but it didn't mean he _forgot_ them.

Zen was already there when Reno entered the bar. The blond was rather conspicuous amidst the gloom, a faint light in the hazy darkness that made him look like one of the infants in a madonna painting, and Reno wondered why he had picked this particular bar instead of any number of other bars at his disposal. This was the seediest, filthiest, hinkiest bar in the entire Midgar Edge, and But the odd expression on his face made that comparison inappropriate, and as Reno sat down, he vaguely wondered why the blond needed to talk to him, and not, say, Axil, or Arien, or his wife. Maybe Ivy still didn't like the idea of them being together and had sent Zen to chew him out. Well, if that was the case, Reno wasn't going to budge. Arien was happy with him - or so he thought - and so he wasn't going to let random people change that. Besides, with Arien being that needy, who would say she didn't want him?

"Whiskey," he said lightly to the bartender, then sat down next to Zen at the counter. "So, what's up?"

Zen looked up, a frown on his face. And then he vaguely asked, "can we talk?"

"Well, that's what I'm here for, yeah." He nodded as the bartender slid a glass to him. "Though why you need to talk to me and not Axil I haven't a clue. But go ahead."

Zen absent-mindedly observed him, taking in his wild red hair and the pierced ear; his expression was languidly cynical, and there was a marked lack of gravity to the way he carried himself. It didn't help that he had a slight sneer on his face, or that his black T shirt made him look like a regular punk. Yes, it was extremely likely that Reno would have experience regarding what he was going to talk about; of course, that didn't bode well for Arien, but it was partly her fault for sticking with such a man, even after constant reminders that he was no good for her.

Zen stared into the glass, keeping his vigil for a moment, but then suddenly asked, "Have you ever cheated on someone?"

"Cheat?" Reno echoed. "Like, as in, cheat on someone with someone else?" He raised a brown eyebrow, as if he was asking whether Zen had completely lost his mind. "You jokin'? Why would I ever do _that_?"

"Bullshit!" Zen cried, almost desperately. "You've got your hands in so many damn pairs of panties that getting hitched won't change a thing."

"I'm not hitched." Reno waved a slender hand, devoid of any rings. "And as much as I'd like to brag just how many ladies have salivated over my rod, I'm sorry to say that no two women ever shared it. Well, without knowing about it," he amended, recalling the time he had gotten piss-drunk and had ended up in a threesome. That was when his boyhood dreams had ended and he had discovered that threesomes were way, way overrated. Zen made a face at the mention of saliva and "rod", and Reno grinned, satisfied that he had gotten the wanted results. "But no, man, Arien'd kill me if I did that. With a blunt spoon."

_What did he just say?_ Despite it being easy for anyone to imagine Arien castrating someone with a spoon - although it was far more likely that she'd just shoot the unmentionables off and be done with it, no muss, no fuss - Zen tried to re-register what he had just heard. Did Reno just say he had never cheated on someone? Was that even remotely possible? Did they mean the same thing? But he must have meant the very thing Zen was thinking about, since he mentioned Arien…

Zen looked aghast. "Never?" He asked. "Like, never ever?"

Reno blinked, baffled at his reaction. He had not taken the query seriously, and had simply assumed the question to be hypothetical, or even a joke. But Zen's expression had told him that this was not so, and that he was serious. Which meant…

"No," he said, his expression now serious. "Man, I'll never do that to Arien. She'd cry, and then god knows what kind of shit she'd do to herself. Then I gotta clean the mess up. It's too much hassle, and besides can you imagine what kind of a mess I'd be in at work? She's my coworker, remember?"

Zen's eyes widened.

_Arien cries?_

For Zen Flescher, Arien was a fairly tearless creature. Always controlled, always focused, always driven, she seemed almost like a machine, without the capability to cry or be moved in such a manner to elicit emotional responses. But Reno's expression was serious, and the latter part of the sentence told him that Arien, when deeply hurt, would run to such excessive measures, perhaps to regain control of herself… but whether that produced any measurable effect was clearly up to debate, and Reno's face told him that it didn't.

_God, what have I done?!_

Reno's serious countenance told him the gravity of his error, but he couldn't stop the confession now. Or could he? But then Reno was fairly astute when it came to these things, or so Axil had said once, so he'd probably know anyway, and then what? He'd tell Arien, and then she'd tell Ivy.

"I cheated on Ivy," Zen said in a rush to get the words out. Reno stopped drinking, then stared.

"You what?" He echoed.

Zen gulped down the alcohol. He was going to need every help he could get, and if it came from the chemicals and without judgement, more the better. But God, if _Reno_ had never cheated on someone, what did that make him? Scum of scum?

"Look, it was an accident, okay?!"

"Hey, I haven't said nothin'." Reno tapped on the wooden counter and asked for another glass. "Anyway, what happened?"

"Look, this is really difficult to say it out loud, but-"

Reno was starting to look bored. Zen hurriedly continued.

"Well, Ivy was my third girlfriend, and she's older than me!" Zen blurted.

Reno raised an eyebrow. "So?" He shrugged. "You think Arie brings my past girlfriends up? She has her own and I've mine. Digging it out won't do us any good."

"You don't understand," Zen said, shaking his head. "You're older than Arien, you've had more experience than her, and that's fine. You're in the driver's seat, and Arien's happy going along with you. But Ivy… she's always ahead of me, older than me, have more experience than me… she's trying to make me quit my job-"

"Hang on a sec," Reno interrupted. "You're gonna quit your job?"

"The spying stuff, yeah. Ivy's nagging." Zen sighed. "Said if we were gonna start a family, I need to be concerned about the safety of the family too. Doesn't Arien say that to you?"

"Nope." He shrugged. "Arie knows damn well the dangers of my work, and she says nothing. But then again," he pointed out, "she has the same job. She'll have to quit too. Besides, she knows that I need it. Not the job, but I need this in my life."

_I need to be running. I need a purpose. _

"The excitement?"

"That too. But look, we all need something to live for. For some, it's booze. For me, it's this job." He swirled the amber liquid inside the glass. "So… why d'you do it?"

"I dunno." Zen sighed again. "I guess I wanted to do something without Ivy hanging over my shoulder, you know? Do something by myself. And kind of one-up her, I guess."

"So… you cheated."

A shrug was all Reno received as a response. Reno doubted Zen actually knew why he cheated; perhaps this was his rationalisation, as opposed to the truth. But what did that have to do with him? His job was to just drink and listen. Or at least pretend to listen. He wasn't particularly interested in actually listening to Zen Flescher's tales of misery and woe; it was his choice to get married to Ivy, and so it naturally fell to Zen to sort this mess out. And besides, since when was he a good listener?

"Does Ivy know?"

Zen shook his head in response.

"So why exactly did you want to talk to me?"

"I thought you'd understand."

Reno snorted. "What you meant is, you thought I'd have experience. Sorry buddy, I don't cheat on my girlfriends. I have enough lies in my life without adding to my personal one. I don't need more, especially with people I have to trust my life with." He tried to imagine how Arien would react, if he did indeed cheat on her and she found out; heartbroken wouldn't even begin to express the degree of hurt she'd be in. Despite what many people thought, she was a fragile creature, relying mostly on him for mental stability. The odd dichotomy of her angry independence and the reluctant admission of her incapability to finish emotional ordeals by herself was delicious; it was one thing to make a woman kneel, but it was quite another to make a woman that proud kneel and admit that she needed him. But it also came with the knowledge that she'd shatter if he betrayed her. Which would be way, way too much work for him to patch up. He could just imagine Rude's silent, judgemental stare. Elena would shriek like a harpy and even Tseng would look at him with disapproval. "But anyway. What do you wanna do?"

"Do?" Zen echoed.

"Well, are you gonna tell her?"

There was a fearful expression on Zen Flescher's cherubic face, which struck the redhead as comical. Blond hair shook as the man shook his head.

"Good. If you're gonna lie, take it to the grave. Worst thing you can do is lie badly," said the man who lied and killed for a living. "Well," he said, brightening, "you can always silence her. Permanently."

Zen goggled. "You mean, kill her?" He croaked. "It was my mistake! Surely she shouldn't-"

"Oh, c'mon. If the broad talks to your darling wife, things are gonna get really shitty," interrupted the redhead as he tapped the counter for another glass. There was a sly grin on his face that belied the joke, but someone who knew less would have taken him seriously. As for Zen, he was not quite sure whether Reno meant it or not. "You won't just have Ivy after you, man. You'll have all the other ladies after you, plus one hell of a good Turk-"

"Arien?"

"Elena." Reno grinned into the glass. Arien had her strengths, and she was an irreplaceable asset to the team, but he'd never, ever praise her; it was likely that he just didn't want to think of her as a Turk, but instead as a woman. "Didn't you know? 'Laney and the ladies are getting quite close. And trust me, her kicks are getting better." He looked at Zen's dumbstruck face, then grinned evilly. "You ain't just fightin' your wife, Zennie boy. You're fightin' the whole damn crew."

* * *

While Reno was talking with Zen and discovering that the upright man wasn't quite so upright after all, Ivy was at Arien's, stirring tea restlessly as Arien bustled her way around the kitchen. She hadn't pried about where Reno was going, or why - it seemed an all-boys thing - and had forgotten to think about it when Ivy had come over, who had been a little too busy recently to properly keep in touch as closely as before. Marriage life, evidently, meant that your time was no longer completely your own. Arien wasn't sure what was so different from her life and Ivy's to warrant more exclusivity on her silver-haired friend's part. After all, they both lived with men who seemed to have developed a distaste for laundry and a taste for clean clothes. The amount of chores should be the same, shouldn't it?

Ivy noticed that some hard edge was gone from Arien's face… she looked a little softer now, as if she didn't always have a shield up. She wondered why for a moment, then realised that it must be because of the redhead. Before Reno had entered her life, she had been almost averse to the male sexuality for some reason that even Arien herself didn't quite understand. Terrified of the sex, she had been always on alert, prickly and non too gentle; but she had been almost forced by circumstance to accept the redhead, and she had. Now it was up to Reno to beat off the other males, and Ivy assumed he did that task marvellously. He didn't _quite_ seem the kind to be willing to share anything of her with any one else. Males, anyway.

"What's bothering you?" Ivy asked as Arien pulled out a large kitchen knife and set the blade against the tomatoes. She looked up, wearing a sour expression, but whether that was from the fumes of the green spicy peppers that had just been sliced up or from something else, she wasn't quite sure. She also had no idea what Arien was making. Ivy rarely tried a new recipe, while Arien seemed to never make the same dish twice.

"Zen's still in the business, isn't he?" she asked disapprovingly as she looked down and sliced the tomato in half.

"What business?"

Arien gave her a hard, steady look. Ivy nodded. Then asked, "why do you ask? Do you disapprove? Aren't you in it?"

"That's a lot of questions in one breath, Ivy," the woman complained. _Schuck schuck schuck,_ went the knife as she sliced the fruit, but then she stopped her hand. "I do disapprove. And yes, I'm still in it."

"Isn't that hypocritical?"

"Not really." She shrugged. "Let's just say that I want him out _because_ I'm in it. I know the effect it has on people, and trust me, Ivy, it's not pretty." _Schuck schuck schuck_ went the knife again with a hiss of steel, separating the red flesh into two, then three. "Look… I didn't choose to be in this career. Reno didn't choose this career. If we had a choice, we'd have done something else. So why is Zen so crazy to keep doing this kind of job?"

Ivy blinked again, shocked. It was true… Arien's life hadn't been exactly a happy one, all things considered, and not much of it had been up to her. Some people messed their lives up by choice; stupid choices, but they chose them anyway. All Arien could do with the circumstances she had been given was cope. Hers were reactions, not actions, but still she had ended up killing her own sister then having to lie to her father about it.

"And Reno… he's happy with his job?"

"I don't know if he's happy with it. I'm sure he has his moments of regret." Dark dreams plagued Reno's sleep; and unlike what he let on, Arien had a feeling he remembered his victim's faces. Well, some. His death tally included those he had never seen, thanks to the Sector 7 incident. That was still his worst nightmare, and she'd always wake him up when he dreamt about it, and then he'd hold her for hours, as if she was some deliverance. She wasn't, and he knew it, but he held her regardless. Reno, like her, had no choice to join the Turks; it was literally join or die for him, and who in the right mind wanted to die? But he had been forced to make hard choices, choices that still haunted him. It did him no good to explain that if he hadn't pressed the button, or killed a target, then Rude or Tseng or even she would have done it instead. He just went on, tasting guilt as if it was the finest liqueur. And to be honest, that was the one thing that kept Reno human; if he didn't have that guilt, he'd be a monster, and he constantly walked the fine line between that and what made people human.

And people wondered why he was so messed up.

"Rufus?" Ivy was asking. Arien snapped her attention back to her friend.

"What about him?"

"Is he okay with… what he orders people to do?"

She shrugged. "I don't have a clue what he's thinking. I don't even know if he has a conscience, Ivy. Consciences are rather personal, it's not something you fanfare about. You either have one, and then you act accordingly or you don't and end up feeling guilty, or you don't have one at all, in which case the point of guilt is moot. Can't feel guilty without conscience."

"And that's why you want Zen to get out."

Arien nodded. "Look, I'll be honest. The stuff we did… they weren't always good. Actually, they were rarely good. Espionage isn't a clean business." And that was why her father had wanted her to have a normal life. No such luck there. "Zen's relatively new, Ivy. Not like Felicita or Siva or Axil or Shivvalan or any other of the Intelligence that you know. He should get out before he crosses the line, because once you cross it, there's no going back. And Ivy? Living with someone who crossed the line isn't easy."

"But you do."

"Because I've crossed it as well. And hence, I'm going to hell."

_If I__'m not in one already._

"And… Siva? Felicita?"

A shrug was all that she offered as the reply. Neither of them had been a covert operative; it was likely neither of them had ever killed. It was also likely they both had killed. When it came to the missions, not even the members of the same section knew the details, and that was how the Intelligence operated. But it really wasn't her place to say anything either, as that prerogative belonged to them anyway.

"I want to see," Ivy said. "I want to see what sort of life you lead. Then I'll decide."

"Decide what?" Arien asked, putting the knife down and picking up an onion.

"Whether Zen should be in it or not."

She put the onion down, and turned to look at her, a frown on her face. "I don't think you should," she murmured. "There's no guarantee you'd come out of it unharmed, Ivy. Those men aren't what you'd see in the offices or labs. They aren't the Hojo variety of whack, but they aren't the safe kind either."

"Which is why I need to see," the silver-haired woman replied in a whisper. "I need to be in Zen's shoes, Arien. Otherwise I can't judge, can I?"

Arien sliced the onions, then added them to the pot and hit the switch. "I'm not going to guarantee you'd come out of it alive," she warned.

Ivy nodded. "I won't get in your way. I promise. Besides, Zen's only slightly more likely to come out of it alive than me, no?"

Arien considered this. The truth was, she and Reno'd come out of whatever'd transpire in that bar. Axil and Shivvalan might, if they tried hard. Siva and Felicita had a fifty fifty chance. And Zen… well, there was a reason she was strongly urging him to get out of this business. He really wasn't made to be in this kind of "shoot now or die" business, but he just couldn't be content sitting behind a computer and attacking the system cyber-side. He wanted all the "funsies" the world had to offer.

Idiot.

"Fine," she said, wiping her hand on a towel. She reached a holster that was hanging from a hook, then pulled it on; the Sig and the Glock slid home into their respective places, then she pulled on a blazer. "C'mon," she said, checking to see whether the stove was off. "Let's go see what the boys are up to."


	11. The Definition of a Dangerous Business

\- I grew up in English-speaking countries, so I'm fairly fluent in both languages. Or, at least I'd like to think so. I think you'd get some idea of the plot for the latter half of the Turks novel, since I'm incorporating a lot of the plotline into this fic. This is going to be a long fic indeed...

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - Zen's been bad! It kind of irks me that he automatically thought Reno'd have experience cheating. Reno never struck me as a cheater; the kind with messy break-ups, yes, but not the kind to get into that kind of trouble. Of course, I just might be wishful.

Familiar faces, familiar names! And on schedule! Amazing, I know.

Chapter 10: The Definition of a Dangerous Business

* * *

"So tell me," Reno continued nonchalantly from his previous declaration, "didn't you have a thing for Arien a while back? What happened to that?"

"I don't see what that's got to do with you," the blond man bristled. Reno considered asking for another glass, then thought better of it when he remembered seeing a vaguely familiar face come in a while back. He wasn't sure why, but he was smelling trouble. He'd want to stay sober.

"Oh, c'mon. It's got everything to do with this. If you still had feelings for her-"

"No," came the quick interjection.

"All-right. Humour me then. Why the hell did you dig her anyway? And what happened?"

"She's… cool. Too cool," Zen tried to explain, and saw that he had failed. Reno was looking at him blankly, with a 'I haven't a clue what you're talking about' kind of an expression his face.

"Arien?" Reno paused. "She's cool?"

Zen shrugged. "Look. She's clever, she looks pretty when she isn't about to tell someone's butt off, she's nice when she wants to be, and she's mostly fun to be with. But I saw her work, Reno. And well…" he paused. "She's a Turk." He shrugged again. "It's hard to describe. She can be a woman… and a man."

"She is a woman, if you haven't noticed."

"Well, yeah, but it's like you guys live through like you're in an action movie." Zen slid his shot glass toward the bartender. "And we're just normal people."

"Ha! Kid, you really don't want to star in an action movie. Stay as an audience. 'Cause starring in it is shit."

"I know, but-" he stopped when Reno suddenly held up a hand. "What?"

"Shit," Reno muttered. "The ladies are here."

Ivy looked extremely out of place in the smoke-filled bar with rowdy men, but Arien cut her way through the crowd, as she belonged here, and Zen was again reminded of their difference. A woman in such a place would get more garbage than a regular bar. Of course, this was also true for men, but more so for women because of the gender. Arien walked with a slight cock of the head, and Zen the easy sway of her blazer; the sign of a jacket told him that Arien was packing. She was ready to defend herself, if it was required of her, and so men gave her some space, recognising her aggression before her sex. In a world of rowdy men, aggression really was the only thing that made the ranking. A black jacket and tight jeans with low boots, she looked no different from other women out in the streets, but the way she moved told anyone who was looking that she was not someone to be messed with.

Well, except one drunken bastard. He reached out, his hand hovering around Ivy's hip. "Hey girl," he hiccoughed, "you lonely tonight?"

Ivy froze, but Arien didn't. With a snap of an arm she locked the hand into an unbreakable twist, bent at an almost impossible angle. "Want to tell me what you just said to her?" she asked coolly.

"Sorry! I'm sorry!"

"Go home," she said, then continued to advance toward them. "Hi boys."

"You brought Ivy? Seriously?" Reno glared at her. "You really think that's a good idea?"

"For one thing, I tried to stop her, and for the second, she insisted. I'm not her mother." She sat next to Reno, threw her arms across the counter. "The usual," she said.

Ivy, who looked unsure where to sit, sat in between Zen and Arien, the former having moved over a few seats to provide space. "You've been here before?" she asked, almost timidly. Arien grinned.

"Ivy, I'm a Turk. And like it or not, this is where all the big boys hang out. And if I don't, I have to play in the flowerbeds." She downed the shot in one go. "Trust me, I didn't pick this place."

"I did." Reno nodded at the bartender, who refilled. "It's filled with shitty bastards who have the information we need. But why did you want to come anyway, Ivy? This ain't your kind of place."

"She wanted to see what sort of world Zen's going to end up in," Arien said as she adjusted the belt.

Reno nodded. "And she didn't swallow all the crap you fed her?"

"It's not crap, it's the truth." Her dark hair swung as she moved her head. "And if you really want to see us as who we are… well, it's ugly." She turned a cold gaze to the blond man. "Get out, Zen. If you love Ivy, get out. Before you ruin what you have."

"You're still in the business!"

"Yes, because I have no reason not to be. Reno's in the business. And you know what happens when people like us quit? We end up in body bags." She noticed Reno gesturing, and leaned in. "What?"

"You see that old woman back there?" Reno hissed in her ear, so others won't be privy to the conversation.

Arien cast a furtive glance behind her. "The one sitting with bunch of men at a table? And isn't that Rod at the table too?"

Reno nodded. "That's the one. You packin'?"

Arien nodded slightly. Then, in the practised ease of a long-time coworker: "You think there's going to be trouble?"

"Yeah. I swear I've seen her before. Like, before I joined the Turks, so that's a while back, but-"

"I want the drugs off the streets, boys," said the old woman at the table. "It's dangerous, it's bad for the business. A dead customer is no good to anyone. Stop cutting the Hyper with whatever you're cutting with."

The two Turks perked up at the mention of the counterfeit drugs. Fortuitous or what?

"Looks like Rod wants the drugs off the streets as well," Arien murmured into the glass.

"Yeah. Maybe I'll talk to-"

Reno's worried reminiscence was cut short by a thunderous "I'm Yolanda Gelacroos, boys! Don't you forget it!". Everyone in the bar heard it; the old woman had a very loud voice for her age that carried well over the rowdy mumbles of the ruffians that packed the bar. The declaration, in turn, shut the men up.

"That's it!" Reno finally remembered. "That's Yolanda, the old hag-"

He could not finish the sentence, for the guns went off at the same time. Reno and Arien stood up at once, then out came the weapons; Arien her pistols, Reno his baton which he had shoved into the back of his trousers.

"What do we do about Yolanda?"

Reno did not take a beat to make a decision. "Let's have them owe us a favour," he murmured. Arien nodded, then dove over the bar with, leveraging herself up with one hand, twisting her hips and sliding over to the other side in a tumble of liquor and glass. The redhead looked at the two companions, saw them immobile.

"You got what you came for, Ivy," Reno half-mocked, half-warned. "Get behind the goddamn bar!"

Ivy could not move; she had never seen a gunfight, and she was not prepared to see one now. The redhead saw that her husband was a little more alert, and jerked his chin to the petrified woman.

"Get her behind the bar!" He hollered. "Man, why the fuck did it have to be today?" He dove behind the bar himself, vaulting over the countertop, then whipping his Jericho out and shooting without looking to provide a path for the scuttling pair. The lights were going out with a series of bangs. "Yo, Buzz! Please tell me you did what I told you to do."

"Sure did!" said the bartender, who had dug out a shotgun from under the counter and was now sitting next to Reno, one knee propped up, the gun held at the ready. "It'll stop anything under fifty calibre. Anything over that and there ain't much to save." He saw Ivy and Zen crawl in on all-fours.

"Oh goodie," said Roderick, who had evidently abandoned the table and had joined the small crowd that was hiding behind the counter. "Hi, Reno."

Reno was not listening. He was eyeing the Beretta in Zen's hand with disapproval. "Here's somethin', Zen," he said, waving a hello to his former subordinate who was now sitting next to him, shaking his hand; he had tried to reach for a glass of booze that was sitting on the countertop only to have it shatter from a stray bullet before he got his hand on it. "Unless you're real good, don't wave that thing around. It's gonna make you a target."

Zen did not look pleased at the implied inadequacy with his marksmanship. "Define good."

Reno pointed at his neighbour, who had her Glock and Sig out. "That good." He grinned at the woman. "Okay, here we go."

While Reno was crawling to get out from behind the bar to gain a favour by selling one and Arien was getting ready to narrowly avoid becoming a shooting target, the four behind the bar could do nothing but cower. Well, Ivy could do nothing but cower. Rod was now smoking, knees propped up, while Buzz was hissing his frustration at the world like a steaming pot.

"Why the fuck aren't you out there, Rod? Isn't Yolanda your shrivelled old bitch?"

"Well, Buzzcock," Rod said, grinning and clapping the man on the shoulder, "the 'shrivelled old bitch' told me to keep myself alive and not get killed. I'm just obeying orders." He looked around, his mako-enhanced eyes taking in more details in than was natural. "Man, I'm thirsty." Reaching for an errant bottle, he cracked the bottle open, knocked back a slug.

"Maybe I should go out and help," Zen offered. Arien, Roderick, and Buzz all stared at him as if he had said he was going to commit a very messy suicide by shooting his pistol up his rear.

"No," they hissed in unison.

"Oh, c'mon, I'll be fine. Besides, Reno might appreciate it."

"Blondie," said Roderick, "Reno's like a brother-"

"Well, he's not for me, he's my boyfriend." The woman made a salvo as she watched the redhead make a slow crawl.

"I love Reno like a bro, and I've bled for him, but the four most fatal words in our language is 'Reno might appreciate it'," intoned the ginger.

"Oh, I don't know. 'Reno taught me a new trick''s about as dangerous." Arien was feeling around, counting magazines. Buzz was eyeing the bottle with wary eyes.

"Stop stealing from my shop."

"I'll pay later. If there's a later."

"You better. I don't have free booze for this party."

Buzz, in a better mood now that Rod promised to pay, merrily continued the conversation. "The only person who gets away with Reno's games-"

"-is Reno himself-" continued Rod.

"-and that's only because I think I represent the mass when I say that we're damn sure some god's saving him for a big finale. With the big explosions and guns going off everywhere, the works."

"You mean, like right now?" Arien grinned. "Okay, Reno's out." She took care not to crunch the glass as she got ready to leap.

Ivy and Zen could only watch as the Reno leapt out from behind the bar. They could not see squat in the gloomy darkness, but Reno's vision, while not as good as Arien's, was enough to see with the light from the outside. He swung the baton into what he assumed to be Yolanda's opposing force. Bullets came sailing at him, and he threw himself to the floor, cursing his luck for being out of the uniform. Trust his luck to get in a gunfight on his off-day. Couldn't he catch a break?

The thoughts were blown out of his head when he heard more gunshots from behind him. Arien must be out from behind the counter, her shots felling one person per one bullet; she far outclassed Reno with her guns, and with her enhanced vision she could see everyone as if she was in broad daylight. He glanced back from his position, saw her kick out and jump off from the counter as she reloaded her Glock. She was never without a spare magazine or two; it was usually her rule to be the first and the last to be firing. It was a good habit, he thought.

"Yolanda!" Reno hissed, finally locating the old woman. "C'mon. We can't have you croak it just yet."

"Who the hell are you?" asked the old hag with a gun in her hand; a good old-fashioned revolver. Good choice. Reno winced slightly, but granted her the merit of doubt. There were a lot of people gunning for her this very moment, after all.

"It's Reno. I used to be in the Triad. C'mon, my girlfriend's covering our asses and I kinda wanna go home without hauling her body behind. Can we please get movin'?"

"You have a mouth, boy," snapped Yolanda like someone's grandmother, but got moving. Reno nudged the old woman towards the bar, covering her slow move with his Jericho and his baton; he saw a vague form some distance away. Arien, from the way the figure moved and shot; her movements were like a dance as she engaged, her long arms moving this way and that, her feet shifting balance as she dodged. She was no SOLDIER 1st Class, but she moved faster than an average human.

Ivy could see a very, very vague shape, a narrow silhouette that moved like a dancer, going from spot to spot, leaving falling bodies in the wake. She realised that this was Arien that she had never really seen; the face of a killer that Arien had never showed her, hiding it behind the wry smiles and low-voiced one-line quips. She was a Turk, but never had she thought about what this meant; now, seeing the two in action, Ivy realised that they were not like her; they had never been like her, and they lived in a different world, where they'd kill to defend themselves, then go home, and sleep like nothing had happened. She vowed to get Zen out of this mess; this sort of day had no place in a family man's life, and she did not want a thrill-seeker as a husband. She wanted someone reliable, someone she'd be sure would be returning at the end of the day before dinner. And she realised that the smell of blood and gunpowder and metal that she had always associated with Reno was just something that Arien had as well, but something that she had ignored because of the friendship and her unwillingness to admit the savagery in someone she counted as her friend. She saw the silhouette pivot on one foot, turn, and another man fall as a gunshot rang out.

Her attention was distracted when the redhead came crawling in after a very old woman, who looked as if she had a lemon stuck in her mouth. "Hey Yolanda," said Roderick, leaning forward. "I told you this'd happen."

"When you get to my age, Roderick, you can say 'I told you so'. Until then, you keep your goddamn mouth shut," snapped the old woman as she settled in. "Give me the bottle, boy. I need you sober."

The man who could pass off as Reno's brother passed the bottle; Yolanda took a sniff, took a swallow, then put it on the floor. "Thanks," she muttered to the redhead. "At my age, dying doesn't become much of an issue, but living's a bonus."

"I'd love to give ya a break, but we need to get the hell outta here." Reno slid his hip to the right, reaching for the doorknob. "Arie!" He slid into the doorway, pressing his body flat against the cubby wall, then fired his Jericho. "Jackrabbit, Arie!" He fired two more, distracting the few left standing. He saw Arien use someone as a shield as she backed towards him, holding his arms behind him and yanking him along. "Let's go!"

"Got it." She kicked the man, sending him sprawling onto the ground, then turned heel and ran through the door. She was the last one out; Rod was waiting, his suit sprinkled with dust of glass. The others had already gone to only gods knew where. She hadn't set up a rendezvous point in case some major fuckery happened. She hadn't planned for this shoot-out. Evidently she needed to be a little more careful.

"Thanks, Rod," she said, holstering the Glock. The back alley was empty, save for the former punk gone Turk gone gang leader.

Rod passed a cigarette; uncharacteristically, Arien took it, put it between her lips. "Does Reno have a plan?" She inhaled, the white smoke streaming out from between the ruby red as she exhaled.

"Does he ever?" He lit up his own. "Thanks for your help, by the way. Back in Midgar."

Arien shrugged. "Sometimes, the pile of shit that's at the bottom of us filth surface. They keep burning everything in their midst until they blow everything up, or they get hunted and put down like rabid dogs. Who better than us to be the hunters?" She moved her shoulder. "We need to get Buzz and the other two out. This is getting really messy."

"Buzz's taking care of that," Rod said, looking around. "Something about Ivy being a girl."

Arien spluttered. "The hell? Buzz never even gave me a free shot! What the hell am I, a man?"

"Ivy's not a gunslinger. With you, people tend to notice the guns first." He then thought about Reno. "Except for Reno," he amended.

"Ugh." She stubbed out the cigarette on a nearby wall, then pocketed it in her jacket. "Right. Time to go home," she said, letting Rod take the lead to get to the rendezvous point. She was tired and cranky, and a casual warning had turned into a dire threat that was going to blow this warning way out of proportion. _Shit_, she thought, her tired brain feeling as if it was filled with cotton; the air was thick as jelly, and she wanted to have a shower, but that'll have to wait for a while.


	12. A Merry Chase and an Unfriendly Friend

\- And now we begin to see familiar characters! Which is why this is uploaded Monday evening, not Friday (gotta do double-check to make it canon-friendly... although it's very likely only a handful of peeps read the canon novels).

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - This is only the beginning, though... It's gotten so hot all of a sudden and boy am I lethargic. That and I ditched my inspirational resources (aka Steam) and started an inexplicable marathon of Sex and the City. Woot.

Chapter 11: A Merry Chase and an Unfriendly Friend

* * *

"Time to go make the pick-up," Reno murmured as he checked the clock. "Why can't Tseng go for once?"

Arien was sitting at the dining room table, cleaning her Glock. She looked up, saw Reno tugging on a shirt, and secretly appreciated the nice six-pack he sported. Call her vain but it was nice to see that the man she slept with looked toned. "Tseng's usually babysitting Rufus," she said as she pushed the brush through the barrel. "Unless you want to do that instead?"

Reno scowled, stood in front of the mirror that was hanging above the sofa - something about making the room look bigger, he wasn't sure of the details - and ran a comb through his red hair to absolutely no avail. It really meant nothing, as his hair remained as wild as ever, something that everyone had given up on taming. Combs, brushes, and irons just didn't go with Renaldo Miller, and he had absolutely no qualms about showing up to work as if he had just left a one-night stand. It was his style, he said, and Tseng had given up on arguing long ago. Reno was Reno and there was no point in changing him. Most people had suspected, when Shinra Company was still up and running, that Reno dressed like that precisely because he was coming in from a one-night stand. After living with him, Arien could attest to the fact that no, he was just slovenly and too lazy to do his tie in the morning. He wasn't exactly the epitome of order. She distinctly remembered their first kiss - or was it second kiss - involved cleaning his desk which had been a pain in the rear. He clearly didn't distinguish between rubbish and what needed to be kept.

"Whatcha gonna do while I'm gone?" Reno asked as he buttoned his shirt. Arien noticed that he had done his buttons wrong - again - and pointed it out, at which he clucked his tongue in irritation and began undoing them. "Buttons are evil," he said.

"Buttons aren't evil. You just need to be careful." She said, checking the spring. "I'll be cleaning guns, then I'm going to bed. Do come back in one piece."

"Oh? And why would you want that?" He tugged the jacket on, leaving the zipper undone.

"Because I don't want to patch you up at two in the morning," came the retort. "It's going to make a sloppy job."

"Well, don't worry about it. I have my own agenda for coming back with _everything_ attached." He frowned when no response came back. "Right, I'm off."

"Be careful," was all he got as a goodbye. Which was just as well. He wasn't fond of goodbyes, especially since he never knew when it'll be the final farewell; he'd rather not think about it, and so he chose to ignore it instead. Whistling, he left. Elena and Tseng were away again on some mission, so Rude was the one watching the president. Consequently, Reno had to get his motorcycle out - he had managed to retrieve it from the car park at his old apartment building before everything went to shit - so he could bring the haul back home. There wasn't much point in disposing it. Someone'll pick it up and snort it, then promptly die or something.

"Why do I gotta do all the work?" he wondered out loud as he kicked the stand off, forgetting that everyone was doing their share and it wasn't like he was having it that badly. Swinging his long leg, he mounted, then snapped the goggles on. It was too windy and the streets too dirty to consider going bare-eyed, despite the oncoming gloomy darkness that would try to enshroud the town in its blanket. Not that the town ever got truly dark. Cities never did.

The wind ran through his hair playfully as he cruised the streets. There weren't defined walkways, and so people were left to dodge as he rode by. He didn't push for speed that much - he wasn't in that much of a hurry to get there - and he enjoyed the ride there. He wasn't that concerned about the assignment. Warehouses were never really filled with people, and at most he'd have to take out five or so, which was nothing extreme. _Just a daily routine,_ he vaguely thought as he made a sharp turn to the right. _Same shit, different day._

He got to the destination without a hitch, and he parked the motorcycle a little away from the address. Pulling out his baton and his Jericho, he neared the wall of the warehouse - what was up with drugs and warehouses? - then pressed himself flat against the outer wall, listening in. He could hear voices inside, two to be exact, although he didn't have Rude's hearing senses and so couldn't tell the locations of the two men. Either way, they were inside, and clearly waiting for the pick-up… or him.

_Man, could__'ve used a backup,_ Reno thought, but it was too late. He slid toward the door, then turned on his heel and kicked the door in. The warehouse was much, much smaller than the one the Turks had used to interrogate, barely two rooms, and the men were pulling their guns out. The two looked at Reno, then relaxed; clearly he didn't look much of a threat, with just a baton in his hand and no firearms. Well, they were in for a surprise.

"Ah, ah, ah," he said with a crooked grin on his face that would have told the other Turks to go scrambling. "Don't move, boys. Unless you want an extra nostril. I'll be glad to open it for you two." Sure, there were two, but he was pretty sure he could take both out. He wasn't a Turk for nothing, and these men seemed slow to reach for their guns. He wasn't as quick as Arien with the firearms but he had other strengths.

"You think you can take both of us out? Huh?" The man on the left snarled.

"Ya know what, there's nothing I hate more than a dipshit who talks too much," groused the redhead. "Shut the fuck up."

"Let's take him!" cried the second man. Reno grinned, then leapt into the air, launching into a kick with his left leg that smashed into the man's face. His left hand swung the baton, crushing the man's nose with a nasty _crunch_. Blood gushed out in two streams and the man dropped his gun, holding the ruins of his face. The man who had received a kick was now unconscious and out on the floor.

Reno didn't let the moment lie. He pulled out his pistol, squeezed the trigger into the man who was trying to stem the blood flow; the body fell onto the concrete floor with a sound like a heavy sack hitting a hard surface. He pointed the muzzle at the unconscious man's head, then pulled the trigger again. Blood welled, then turned into a puddle.

"Jackpot," he murmured, craving a cigarette but realising that he had smoked the last one already. "Haven't had that good of a shot in a while." He blew on the nozzle. After checking the belongings and confiscating two phones, a memo pad, and two sets of keys, he turned his head and paid attention to the drugs he was supposed to carry back for the first time, and paled slightly at the amount that was piled in the warehouse.

"Man, why didn't I get the car instead?" He groaned. There were six bags, about the size of his torso, stacked up against the wall, filled with pills about the size of his pinky nail. He can probably carry it back, but loading it was going to be a nightmare. It'll mean at least three trips, and he won't be able to defend himself while carrying them. He really, really should have brought a backup. Why didn't he bring one?

Oh, right. Everyone was busy.

It took considerable time and effort for him to carry the damn things back. He grumbled all the way, unhappy with the arrangement and with half a mind to sell the damn things on the black market for some pocket money. But no doubt Tseng'd notice and then it'd be his ass on the coals, so it ended as a mere fantasy. It took more effort to carry them into the apartment, and by the time he locked the door behind him, he had decided that some yelling was in order. At Tseng. This was so, so Rude's job, not his; he wasn't exactly the muscle of the group.

Massaging his aching arms, he took a smoke, then got up to take a shower. Gods be damned, if Tseng called at the middle of the night tonight, he was going to kill somebody.

* * *

"What, in god's fucking name, do you want 'Laney?" Reno asked, dripping water from his fingertips. And pretty much everywhere else. He was making a puddle on the bathroom floor, but Arien'd have to live with it; he hadn't expected his mobile to jangle while he was in the freaking shower, but it was a habit to take his phone with him even to the john, and this time he was glad of it. Because, well, Arien was asleep, and she didn't wake up well, especially when she felt it undeserved.

"We have a problem," came Elena's voice.

"Problem? What problem?" He said, grabbing the towel and rubbing his head with it.

"You know the stock we kept?"

_Stock? What fuckin__' stock? Stock, lock, and barrel? Stock of brass? Argh._

"Stock of what?" Reno asked, trying not to snap.

"The stock of medication for Geostigma. There was a theft. We need you and Rude-"

"Rude's comin'?" _Man, why couldn__'t he come earlier to the other assignment?_

"Yes. Tseng's asked you and Rude to go get the medication back. Name's Fabio Brown."

"Ugh." Reno could not help groaning. "Why do I gotta take the heat for some fuck-up's jackin'? C'mon man, cut me some slack."

"Tseng's-"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll go." He didn't wait for Elena's retort, and hung up. His body had dried during the conversation, and his hair was passably dry. But c'mon, why the hell did it have to be tonight? Couldn't he catch a break?

He didn't bother waiting for Rude to ring the doorbell. Instead, he merely got back into his uniform, reloaded his magazine, grabbed a new pack of cigarettes, and headed out, after leaving Arien a note that would supply sufficient information to let her know where he was in case she woke up. He doubted it, but he'd made the mistake of not leaving any note once and the results hadn't been pretty. Evidently women would rather know that their partners were dead in the ditch than worry about it all night. How that worked completely eluded him.

As he walked to the address, cigarette between his lips, he wondered absently how his mother was doing. His father had been a bastard, to say the least, and he had never really regretted leaving the home at age fifteen. His father had been always comparing him with his younger brother, always disappointed and criticising him for not being more robust. Unlike his father, Reno had gotten his mother's build, which was more slender, going for speed rather than brute strength. For a man who had wanted a jock as a son, he had been a grave disappointment. He also had a bad tendency to hit him, especially when Reno came back with retorts, of which he had in abundance. His big mouth had always gotten the better of him. He had been rather pleased when Reno had signed up for that martial arts class, but he had always known that it was because he just wanted to brag to his colleagues that his son was good at martial arts.

What good would that do? Reno had never understood. But he supposed that the achievements his father had attributed to himself, not to his slender son. After all, he was a Shinra employee, so nothing but worthy people for the worthy man, right?

Hah.

He shook his head, as if that'd shake the thoughts away. He grinned slightly, as he flicked the cigarette butt away and trod on it. No point looking back at the past and cursing at the dead man. He had a life now, with a woman who loved him, who understood him (to an extent), who'd die for him. What more could he want?

By the time he met up with Rude, all the funk was gone, instead replaced by the thrill and concentration he always had before a mission, regardless of its magnitude. It thrummed through his veins like the best whiskey, yet left his head clear and focused, his acuity increased.

"Yo," he said, pulling his hand out from his pocket and raising it in greeting. "So who's this punk?"

"Some kid who stole Abidazole." Rude was short with words. "Need to get it back."

"Gotcha. Let's go, then."

Rude rapped on the door none too gently, leaving the flimsy door almost bowing in for a moment. No sound came from the inside, but Reno could see the lights from the cracks underneath the doors. Rude rapped again, this time more harshly. This time the walls shook as well.

No response.

"Fabio Brown. Aren't you in?" Rude asked in a low, yet clearly audible voice. Again, no response, but the man nodded after a moment; Reno couldn't hear it, but clearly Rude could hear some movement behind the doorway.

"Fine. I'll break the fuckin' door down," Reno drawled. "I'll wait thirty seconds." He took a look at the windows; no latch, so whoever was inside would have to break the window to get out from there. He also couldn't wait for thirty fucking seconds. Thirty seconds was too long. Hell, fifteen was too long.

So he broke the door down. Rude frowned in disapproval - he was the type to allow thirty seconds - but Reno shrugged it off. Stepping on the doorway, he entered, and found a blond man with a fork in his hand.

A fork?

He grinned. This scene was ridiculous.

"Toss the fork. You'll hurt yourself, kiddo." He neared the boy - nearly a man, but not quite, Arien'd say - and chopped into the wrist which held the silverware. The fork dropped with a clang, and seizing the moment, Reno drove a knee into the boy's stomach. As the boy doubled over, Rude caught the nape of the neck and rendered him immobile, while Reno wandered over to the door and propped it up for no good reason. He then wondered why he did it.

"Hey Fabio," Reno said, coming back to the dangling boy - Rude was really being careful, as always - and poking him in the chest. "Whoa."

The face that was looking back at him was disturbingly similar to Rufus Shinra's. Not identical, but close. Extremely close. If someone had said that they were brothers, Reno'd believed him.

But that's for later.

"Whatever you stole, give it back," Reno said. The boy's eyes wandered, as if he sought for answers on the ugly papered walls.

"Yo, say somethin'."

Rude forced the boy into a less comfortable position. Which the boy expressed in a choke.

"Can't… breathe…"

"Give it back and you'll feel much better," Reno drawled, tapping the baton against his neck. Then saw the boy start to cry. Tears were dribbling down his face, making it seem as if a slightly younger Rufus was weeping. Reno nearly laughed and fought for control.

"Don't cry, kiddo. Man, unhip to boot."

The boy looked confused.

"Whatever, kid."

_I was never good with kids. They either bawl or they think they own the world. What the fuck._

But Reno did not voice his opinion out aloud. He looked around, taking note of the clear DIY that was going on - or was at least about to happen - and shrugged. "Well, considering what the thing was, I can guess what happened. Promise it'll never happen again and maybe you'll get off with some scolding."

The kid just burped and shook like a leaf. Why was the kid burping so much? Good grief.

"Sorry for scaring you, kid," Reno said lamely, starting to feel a little foolish for using his game face on this barely out of teens runt. Unfortunately for the runt, Rude didn't allow pity.

"You came to scare."

_Well, yeah, good point, but I didn__'t expect a kid who'd just burp and shake. _Reno shrugged. "Hey Fabio, look up."

The kid looked up. Reno grinned again.

"Since we've shown some pretty scary faces to a buncha people before comin' here, we can't exactly go back without doin' nothnin'. Gotta teach people what happens if they try to make a fuckin' fool of us, ya know?"

Well, the kid didn't know. "Are you gonna kill me?" he squeaked.

"Sure, that'll be the easiest. But see, our goal's to be the lovable Shinra. Scary, yeah, but lovable. Not hated. When you kill someone, they hate you. _A lot._"

"Do you know who we are?" Rude asked, breaking his flow. The kid bobbed his head, as if that'll be the salvation. Well, Reno wasn't surprised; people knew their name, like people knew what a bogeyman was. That was what they were, bogeymen in the dark. When Shinra needed violence, out they came like knives, making kills and skulking back into the shadows.

"So, who're we?" Reno asked, raising the delicate chin. Still a kid, he thought; in a few years, his face'd fill out into a more masculine version, like Rufus' did, but right now, he was just still a kid.

A kid he was about to beat up.

_Yeah, we bad._

"Mr Turks?"

"Don't need the mister."

"Sorry."

Reno ignored the apology. "Stand up," he ordered.

The kid wobbled to his feet; it didn't take much to get a fist into his face, which blew the kid all the way to the other side of the room. He crashed into a stool, then fell down with it. The can of paint bonked him on the head like some sort of a slapstick comedy routine.

"That good enough?" Reno asked, gesturing at the kid with a thumb. Rude shrugged.

"A bit soft, but it'll do."

Rude turned to leave, but Reno was bugged by the way the kid looked. He'd bet his head and his penis that the kid was somehow related to Rufus Shinra, and it was better to know where all the siblings were in the president's case. Getting to know them personally… now, that was another matter, as Lazard had proven, but it didn't hurt to know where they were. He gestured Rude to go ahead, then waited for the kid to come to. It took a few minutes.

And then, finally: "what the hell!"

Oh good. The kid wasn't struck deaf or anything.

"Hey, got a moment?"

The boy's face registered surprise. Clearly he had expected the Turks to have been gone by now. Battered and bruised, the kid was in no shape to put up a fight, so he merely stayed where he was. And waited.

"Hey kid, your dad?"

The kid looked even more confused.

"I said, where's your dad?"

"He died. Before I was born."

_Likely. He died with a sword stuck in his guts._

"Got a pic?"

"No."

"What's he like? Heard it from your mama, right?"

"No."

"So you've never seen his face, let alone meet him."

The kid nodded.

"Your mum?"

After a brief pause, "dead."

"Meteor Crisis?"

"Yes."

Well, that was that. Reno nodded once, twice, slowly, then left. He wondered how Rufus'd react if he heard about it, then thought of families and their ties as he walked back to his flat and his bed. But only for a moment did he think about his own family.


	13. Family Issues

\- yep, saw that. Most of the Japanese seem a trifle sceptic... I'm a bit excited to see everyone in though! Hopefully the storyline's not too changed. Don't want Aeris resurrected, do we?

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - Yeah, that was on the top page. It also boosted some stocks. I hope there aren't much retconning, and I do hope the voice actors are involved. And Sephiroth going crazy! That's going to make me go crazy!

blob80 - That's going to be revealed a bit later, so wait for the surprise! The mystery boy's going to play a big role in the Turks' lives, so he'll be playing a fairly large role in this story. How's yours going?

LATE AGAIN. I really need to catch up. I'm running out of pre-stocked chapters!

Chapter 12: Family Issues

* * *

A few days later, Reno was going to face his fears. And by that, it meant he was going to visit his family for the first time in nearly a decade. Arien was going him, although she wondered if that was a good idea, considering that he hadn't seen his family in years. "Hi, I'm actually alive! And here's my girlfriend!" wasn't exactly the ideal first-time conversation in her book. Or the second. Or the third.

But when she addressed this issue, Reno waved it off. "Don't worry, Mum won't care who I'm fucking," he said, waving his slender hand. He was sprawled on the chair, topless, fingering the chain around his neck; the chain was intimately familiar to her now, as it sometimes got in the vicinity of her mouth when he was on top. The wire mesh kept the tiny vial intact even after all the kicking and smashing the man did, and she had to credit the craftsman for his fine work. She liked the way the silver chain settled on his chest, and she supposed it was a little possessive of her to smirk at the minor fact. It was usually invisible under the shirt. In fact, she was fairly certain that the only woman who had seen the chain was her. Rude and Tseng might have seen it, as men had less qualms being topless in front of each other than the women, but otherwise, he kept it hidden and away. She buried her nose into the T shirt he had just been wearing, and inhaled. It smelled of… Reno. With the gunpowder, unburned cigarette, cologne, and a whiff of blood.

Reno grinned, raising an eyebrow. "Like what you're smelling?"

She looked up. Then rolled her eyes. "I share the bed with you. If I didn't like how you smelled, I'd be kicking you out."

"Great to know I have good BO." He got up when she handed him a fresh shirt - with a collar, and buttons, which no doubt will not be worn properly, but still - and he began wearing it. "Man," Reno whined, "why am I doing this?"

"I've no idea," responded the woman with whom he slept on a regular basis. "Revenge? You've met my father."

"Yeah." Reno did not pursue the topic further. Despite all the affection she had for her paternal parent, Reno sensed a sort of… distance between them, as if they did not quite know how to behave around each other. The years lay between them like a gulf, making them strangers more than anything else. Perhaps this was one of the effects her twin sister had left behind that lingered, itching and hurting like an old wound. Or perhaps Arien had always been distant. He had no way of knowing.

He was not looking forward to this. He admitted it freely. His family dynamics were complicated, to say the least, even after all the years, even with his tyrant of a father gone, six feet under and for good riddance. Perhaps his aversion to the concept of family came from that. He had never wanted one, or perhaps he had given up on having his own. After joining the Turks, he was resigned to dying alone in a ditch. After all, that seemed far too likely, as opposed to the alternative of dying old in bed with a bunch of grandchildren.

Family was something that the Turks did not discuss. Everyone - even Rude and Elena - had problems, not to mention Rufus. Out of the six, Rufus Shinra was possibly the one with most scars; he didn't envy the president for having that powermonger as a father. Rufus had grown up alone, separated from his nanny at a young age - the Old Man didn't believe in "coddling", was the reason - and under constant scrutiny and criticism. And the old geezer wondered why Rufus was that cold? He had needed only look in the mirror to find the source of Rufus' cold, cold heart.

And now that his lookalike had surfaced… it was going to complicate things a bit further. Rufus had quite a few siblings, most of them now dead; some he killed, some just died by themselves. All in all, Rufus didn't really have a family. He had always been alone, now to come and think of it, and the Turks were about the closest the blond president had as a family.

Which was seriously, seriously messed up.

In the meanwhile, Arien was trying to unravel the difficult problem of carrying a gun without wearing a blazer. After considering the matter for a few moments, she gave up. "Where am I going to put my gun?" She asked.

"Why the hell would you need a gun to see my mum…? Oh. Purse?"

"I hate putting guns in purses."

"Well, I'm not sure if my mum'd be comfortable seeing my girlfriend toting a gun."

"Ugh." She unzipped the bag. "What are you going to tell your mother about our job?"

"I'm gonna tell her I work in security. Not too much of a lie."

He was rewarded with a shrug. Arien could tell her father what she did, as he knew already, but Reno doubted his mother knew what the Turks did, even if her husband had been a Shinra employee. Dressed in a conservative attire of pink shirt and brown wide-legged slacks, she looked… normal. Almost formal. She even wore make-up, all pearly pinks and fluttering eyelashes. For someone who always saw her as a gun-wielding, black-clad woman with a razor edge, this was rather new. It was either that, or the woman who had caught his attention, the one who would tantalise without even knowing, the kind who challenged men to pry her open. He had never seen this virginal side before.

"Okay. Let's go," he said grudgingly.

The place was across the town, and the walk was slow. When he found the place, he considered turning back for a moment, but Arien was waiting, so he rang the doorbell. And waited.

Footsteps. Getting closer. Then, bam. The door swung open, and there stood…

Well, it was obvious that the woman was related to Reno. The same slight build, the same eye shape, the same jawline; what was delicate in her had turned to mischievous in her son, giving him a catlike mien while with her it was just doe-eyed. Reno was glad Arien had dressed like she did. Pitting the girl he had seen at Shivvalan's party so long ago against this woman who was like a girl who never really grew up was just asking for tension.

"Hi Mum," he muttered under his breath.

"Reno? Renaldo? Is that you?" Tears welled in the woman's eyes. "When I got your call… I couldn't believe… oh, I can't believe… oh, my darling!"

Reno looked positively embarrassed. Arien, on the other hand, was wondering how this slight woman had produced this wild man who borderlined on psychopathic ADHD. Freak of nature, perhaps. Or perhaps Reno had a messed up childhood. She wouldn't discount the possibility; even amongst the Turks and the Intelligence, he was awfully close-lipped about his past, even with her.

"And who's this young lady?" the woman finally asked. "Is she…?"

"Um, she's my-"

"Oh, Reno! You finally brought a girl home! I'm so proud of you!"

_Brought a girl home? As opposed to brought a boy? Just who had he been bringing home? _The possibility that Reno had never brought anyone home had completely escaped her.

"Come in! Come in! Your brother's here." And before Reno could stop her, the mother called. "Luuuucaaaaa! Reno's here!"

By the time Luca came in, the two Turks were already sitting down in the living room. The redhead looked mighty uncomfortable. Arien just blinked when she saw the younger brother come into the room.

The resemblance between the older and the younger brother was far less obvious than the ones found between mother and elder son. While Reno was all acute angles and lines, Luca was all curves and obtuse cuts. For Reno's wiriness, there was bulk; where the redhead had muscle, there was a flab. Luca had not inherited his mother's lovely eyes, nor the jaw to give the face a sense of mischief and the razor sharpness. If Reno was a stiletto, Luca was a hammer. He was also taller than the elder brother.

"So finally brought back a girl! After nearly ten years!" Luca jeered. Arien frowned slightly, wondering about the belittlement. Renaldo Miller's bed was at one point so busy the Intelligence had jokingly named it Roundabout Zero, after the roundabout in front of the Shinra Tower that was reputedly the busiest intersection in the entire city. Of course, it turned out that most of it was just a fluke gossip - the redhead had groaned and retorted that he would not keep a busy bed when he barely had enough time to sleep most of the time - but the truth of the matter was, the redhead could have his pick of women if he so desired. Arien had at one point believed that Reno had enough bastards to start his own football team.

"So who's this girl? Please don't tell me you hired an escort."

"She works in security," Reno replied, leaning back. Evidently the years had erased the sibling rivalry, at least on Reno's side; the years of working as a black op had given him a sort of sass and confidence. Well, confidence that if the whimsy struck him, he could just kill the guy.

"And you're her gigolo?"

What was up with them and their nasty siblings?

"He was my senior directive," Arien finally replied instead of letting Reno talk. "I was a rookie and he's the ace, so he taught me the ropes for a while."

"Where's your girl, Luca?" Reno asked, his tone nonchalant. "I thought I'd get to meet her too. You knew I was gonna visit."

"She's upstairs," Luca said grudgingly. "Emileeeeeee!"

The woman who came into the room might have been pretty a few years ago, but like with so many pale-skinned blonde women, the prettiness had bleached out and given way to frumpiness. She wore a loose-fitting dress, but Arien could see the drooping breasts behind the thin fabric, the waist that was starting to gain girth. She also saw the shock that registered on the woman's face when she saw Reno's face.

"Reno?!" She exclaimed.

"Hang on a sec. You two know each other?!"

"How the hell do you know my name?!"

Arien remained silent, but was baffled. That confusion only lasted, however, until 'Emily' screeched, "YOU SLEPT WITH ME!"

"Oh. THAT girl!" Arien murmured sarcastically. Reno stepped on her foot. Luca had become a statue with shock written all over his face. Emily, oblivious to Arien's sarcasm and Luca's shock, was still screeching after seeing Reno's blank stare.

"You fucked me and then you forgot about me?! You asshole!"

"Hang on a sec, it was just one night! I think."

"How can you forget about me?!"

"I guess you weren't that great of a lay."

And then the blonde woman saw Arien. Of course. And the attack switched from Reno's horrid memory to her existence in general. Emily must have held a torch for the redhead long after the redhead wiped off her existence from his memory. Arien was beginning to think that the torch must have been the deciding factor for the woman to date Luca, since as soon as she saw his brother all thoughts of her current boyfriend seemed to have been blown out of her thoughts. Either that, or Reno was such a catch in comparison to his younger brother that all women would pick him over Luca, hands down, every time. She considered this, and winced.

"Who's the bitch?" Emily screeched.

Arien merely sat back. Reno could take care of this. Her piping up that she was sleeping with the redhead would only invite problems. And sure enough, Reno responded without missing a beat.

"She's my girlfriend," he said, shrugging.

_She must have been just a one-night stand,_ Arien thought. Reno made it a rule to inform the partners how long the encounter was going to last, and as far as she knew, he had never lied about it. Sure enough, Emily turned pasty white then tomato red and was about to screech again, but a quick glance at Luca stopped her. Either that or it was his mother coming in. She put the tray down, which was laden with biscuits and tea. The mother had no idea what her elder son preferred. She also seemed to have no idea what had just happened. What was going on?

"So! Where did you two meet?" She asked cheerfully, evidently oblivious to the silent warfare that was raging in the room. But instead of Reno answering, Luca did instead.

"Apparently Reno taught her… _stuff._" Emphasis on stuff, as if he was trying to imply that Reno had taught her things other than work.

Well, he had, but that was knowledge that no one else needed to know.

"Wonderful! Do you work, dear?"

"Yeah. I work in security now. Used to work in Shinra Tower. Like Dad."

"Oh, I'm so proud of you! Your father would have been so proud too, he always expected one of his sons to work for Shinra, too bad Luca didn't make it for the SOLDIER unit, your father was so disappointed-"

"Mum!" yelled Luca.

"But at least one of you made it, oh I'm so proud!"

Emily's daggers intensified. Arien gave her a smile. Or it might have been a smirk. She couldn't tell. _Would she still be proud if she knew that he was the ace of an elite black ops squad? Would Emily still be goo-eyed if she knew that he__'s responsible for wiping out Sector 7? _

The conversation was getting more awkward by the minute. Occasionally a question or two came her way, and she acutely felt Luca scrutinising her, but otherwise she sat next to him, feeling slightly useless. Reno's mother seemed sufficiently impressed that she had worked for Shinra Company as well, and credited her with Reno looking healthy and being dressed in things other than a ripped shirt and jeans for once. Reno could walk around in underwear for all she cared, but she thanked her for the compliments anyway. Luca's eyes were glued onto her, and Emily was staring daggers at her while giving Reno flirtatious looks, which he prodigiously ignored with a staunch stoicism that would have put Rude's silence to shame. And despite the drama, Mrs Miller chittered away.

"It's so lovely to see you two with girlfriends," she gushed. "Finally settling down, starting a family soon… your father would have been so happy!"

"Yeah, I'm sure he would have loved Emily," Reno snorted. "Nice and docile. Just like Luca." There was a cold sneer hovering around the corner of his mouth, a derision and ridicule. "As for me, well… there's a reason I left at fifteen, Mum. And it wasn't because I didn't like your pot roast."

"You're just jealous because Dad hated you."

"Whatever, Luca."

Luca seemed puzzled at Reno's nonchalant confidence; it was likely that Luca had at least held his ground with his elder brother before. But that had been more than a decade though, and years of life and death experiences had left Reno with enough assurance to be able to consider many things that others may consider serious as somewhat trivial. That seemed to include his brother's juvenile taunting. It was also likely that Reno was casually nonchalant because he knew that he could kill Luca with a finger, thereby wielding unseen but absolute power over his younger brother. And as Reno shrugged his taunts off, Luca got more incensed, Emily's eyes got even gooier if that was even possible, Reno's mother got increasingly agitated over the situation without doing anything and Arien was starting to see Reno's childhood. It didn't look pretty.

"Why don't you have a biscuit, dear?" asked Mrs Miller to Arien, seeing her silent. "You've hardly eaten any. You're such a small thing."

Well, she wasn't small, but she was thin. She took one obediently, nibbled at it, suddenly craving cherries. She wasn't really the kind to snack on junk food to begin with, and the baked food was dry and sugary in her mouth. Reno looked slightly nauseated as Emily munched away on the biscuits. Luca was clearly getting the message that the reason why Emily's waistline was bigger than Arien's was because of the biscuits, and promptly told her to stop pigging out. Emily stopped, but seemed to blame Arien for the comment.

Everyone was getting very uncomfortable.

After what seemed like eternity and noticing that Reno was starting to narrow his eyes, Arien finally excused herself and him by saying that she had work to do and she needed to go home. Laden with biscuits, they left, feeling exhausted and wrung out like a rag; Reno was craving a cigarette and Arien was craving coffee.

The sun was starting to set as their shoes hit the street. Reno realised, and not for the first time, that the Turks had been far more of a family for him than his own kin and blood, and that the woman next to him had been far less judgemental than his own mother. He smiled as he turned his back to the door and began walking back with Arien to the home they had built.

* * *

Arien walked through the avenues, feeling a little fatigued. It wasn't a temporary fatigue that came from overexertion, but rather something that was long coming. _Maybe I__'m just tired of everything,_ she thought vaguely as her shoes kicked a pebble. Despite everything that she had to do, or perhaps because of everything she had to do, she was feeling fairly lethargic and unwilling to move forward in time these days. When she was allowed, she'd just curl up in bed and not get up.

Reno seemed to understand, or at least, if he didn't, he didn't show it. He left her to her own devices, never asking her to cook or get the clothes out. Instead, he just went about - if he had to go out, he did, if he didn't, he just lounged around the flat - sometimes coming to the bed where she'd be curled up, sitting down, gently touching her shoulder, staying with her for a while. It was odd to see him so caring, but then again, he had his own share of scars. She had a gut feeling that he hadn't been raised in a happy, cheery family exactly - otherwise he wouldn't have run away from home - and that was one of the baggages Reno was dragging around like a weight. She hadn't heard much about him, except that he had always preferred Reno's brother, Luca, over the elder brother, and that it was partially because of his father that Reno had started Jeet Kun Do.

Which had landed him in this mess of a career. _Nice job, Mr Miller._

Emotional unavailability was a scar that both of them bore in abundance. Arien knew that her own father didn't mean for it to happen, but happen it did. Perhaps that was why she could perceive the loneliness Reno was desperately hiding. And perhaps he had smelled the resignation she had about being loved.

She was starting to feel slightly miserable, as if they were two wounded animals licking each other's wounds. But was there a difference?

Reno watched her as she walked, her gait rapid and firm; Luca had been checking her out, and he was aware of it. Their taste in women had always been similar, and he had to admit, Arien was… well, as Shivvalan had once said, she was different from the other girls. She didn't fit in any pigeonhole, except maybe a woman who could hold up her end and still be a girl and a woman at once. As she passed, couple of men's eyes lingered.

_Ha. No more hoping she__'d go home with me. _

"What're you thinking about?" She finally asked, after a prolonged silence. Reno grinned.

"I was remembering the night you tried to castrate me with your knee."

"Which night was… oh." She snorted. "That night."

"Yeah, that night." He remembered that kiss vividly, the lipstick she had used to write her number on his arm. Now that was Arien he knew so well, not this casual business office girl that walked next to him. Luca would have done all the wrong things, and would have been written off as a bumbling idiot. He knew that Arien had been interested in him before Shivvalan's party that night, and the trick had been to make her admit it. But Luca would never have even gotten there. He lacked just the right amount of suave to pull it off.

Which was why his father had preferred that idiot of a brother over him. His father had always thought Reno to have a big mouth. Which he did, but unlike his predictions, his mouth got him into trouble far less times. Partly in rebellion, he had done everything that was supposedly not supposed to be done, which had lingered as red hair and the refusal to wear a tie. And probably the grin he perpetually wore.

"So, what did you think of my side?" He asked.

"Your brother checked me out," Arien replied with distaste. "I also have no idea how your mother produced you. Well, your attitude."

"What, you don't like my sass?"

"I never said I didn't. But it's hard to imagine her raising a boy into… you. Luca, yes."

"Blame it on my dementedly narcissistic dad."

"That's where you got your mouth?"

"No, I think I 2was born with it. But Dad sure didn't like it."

Arien smiled. "Well, I at least like it. It would have been so dull if you were Luca."

"You sure did like getting chased." He grinned. She slid her hand into his, feeling the calluses, the scars, the slightly enlarged knuckle from when he broke a finger; he felt her fingers entwine with his, felt her trigger guard calluses, telling him that she was always there to get his back, guns ready.

Teammate. Bedmate. The ying to his yang.

"Well, it is half the fun. Admit it, you would have lost interest otherwise." He saw Arien smile as she glanced at him; the sun hit her face. Still a creature of light and shadow, without colour. She had always been monochrome, although he had always thought it was the uniform. But dressed in colour, she was still monochrome in a city of every shade of grey.

"Yeah. Probably," she agreed. Reno snorted. She had given him a lot of trouble; unlike the other girls he had previously spent time with, a lot of techniques had flown right over her head, or had been ignored completely; when he thought she'd shove, she pulled back, and when he thought he should shove so she can take a step, she'd remain immobile. It had been extremely frustrating, trying to understand how her mind worked. In the end, he had just pushed and pushed and pushed until she gave in.

The rest of the walk home was in relative silence, the air heavy and not just from the warm temperature; the sun was setting, lending the town with its orange brilliance, and Reno's face looked contemptuous. It wasn't the rebellious grin he had, but rather resignation and derision. But at what?

The mystery was solved as they arrived at the door to their flat. As he opened the door, Reno muttered, and Arien didn't miss it. She couldn't; it explained so many things, starting with just why Reno was so rebellious to why he had completely understood her killing Reniel. It was so simple, but so heavy, those words.

"I hate my dad."


	14. A Familiar Name

TWO WEEKS LATE, FOUR WEEKS BEHIND. My PC lost the document. I have massive catching up to do!

\- I'm so sorry this chapter's late! Losing the document you're working on can really put a dent into your drive. I hope you're still reading it (grovels). I'm dying to see Reno in the reboot, because I loved his drawl. And the slouch. I do hope he's less of a comedic than AC. He's a killer, he should act like one.

blob80 - well, Reno's been in a couple of beds... I'm pegging his current celibacy on "I'm a bit scared of what my girlfriend would do if she found out that I'm cheating". It's very likely Arien would go on a killing rampage before self-destructing, and I think Reno values his hide a bit too much for that to happen.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - quite a few people were dismayed by Reno's past with Emily, Arien included. But he did get around back in the day... and Arien knows that. He does have a streak of loyalty, just not with the people he doesn't deem his equal, and Emily clearly wasn't in that particular group.

Again, my humblest apologies for a super-late chapter. I just barely finished this one, and I still have 10 chapters to catch up...

Chapter 13: A Familiar Name

* * *

The phone number, and consequently the location of the next person in the drug distribution hierarchy, was easy enough to figure out. Unfortunately, the drugs operation wasn't the only thing on the Turks' table; for one thing, Rufus was hell-bent on finding the lost Jenova sample, which pretty much kept Elena and Tseng out of the loop for everything else. The blond president was also dismayed to hear from the redhead that the possibility of another sibling alive and kicking around The Edge was quite real. He was also concerned with the new detective agency that had sprouted out of nowhere, toting the slogan "We Read the Lifestream!". It sounded like total bullshit, but Rufus hadn't made it thus far discounting anything.

Which sent the Turks scrambling, even outsourcing things that weren't too volatile to handle. The Intelligence members all had their own jobs now, but a certain acquaintance had nothing to do. And so Arien had asked her childhood acquaintance to dig up any information about this ragtag band of children who were pretending to be Aeris 2.0.

"We have way, way, way too much shit goin' on," Reno grumbled. "I know we're the elite black ops and shit, but this is too much."

Rude could only shrug. It was just after lunch - more like a meeting with food - and they were getting ready to go back to the Edge, so they could "rustle the nest up". That is, Rude will go and rustle it up, Reno will go and oversee the construction, and Arien would scour the remaining files of the old Shinra Company to figure out just how Fabio Brown was related to Rufus Shinra. Considering that the backup server was in Junon, and that the connection was flighty at best, this was going to be some frustrating work.

Arien was sprawled on the coffee table, her arms thrown out onto the surface, her head slumped. The laptop screen was blank, but the blinking light on the panel above the keyboard told the two men that the machine was running, just in idle mode. She looked positively discouraged, and Reno poked her back.

"You okay?"

"No. Do you know the password for Shinra Senior's files?"

"Why the fuck would I know that?" Reno wondered out loud. "The only person who might know is the prez. Why don't you go ask him?"

"Because he's snoozing." She groaned. "I've been trying to crack it, and it's not working. I don't know which woman Senior knocked up to get Fabio. I can probably get the name of the mother, if I can get into the personnel files, but his secretaries are classed above us for some reason that I'll probably never figure out. You said the kid was around eighteen?"

"Yeah. About. Not twenty." He looked too fresh-faced to be twenty. Besides, the kid vaguely reminded him of Rufus during the Zirconiade Crisis, and Rufus had been eighteen or so then. That seemed eons ago; hell, everything seemed eons ago. Rufus had been just a brat back then, he had been just a Turk, there had been a dozen other coworkers, and Arien had just been a spy. Life was so different now.

"Are you gonna stay here?" Reno asked. "Or are you comin' with us?"

"I'm staying." She gestured with her hand. _Babysitting._

Reno raised an eyebrow. "Well, good luck with that," he said out aloud, noticing Arien's tired look. "Are you gonna come back?"

"Tonight."

Reno nodded, and left the lodge, Rude following. It was going to a boys' night at the Rain Street flat, all-right; pizza and beer was the likeliest menu. He would have been worried about Rufus laying hands on Arien once, but not anymore. For one thing, despite all the outward refinement that Arien DeVir exuded, she was a killer who waved guns around and visited shady bars to squeeze information out of men who drank, swore, wenched, and indulged in whatever vices that struck their whimsy. For another, she was far too masculine for Rufus' tastes; no feminine creature was she, with all edges and a body that sprang to action far more frequently than what was desirable for most males. She could be the svelte if she so wished, but that wish very rarely took hold of her.

That, and she bristled like an angry porcupine whenever she thought men were trifling with her. Which occurred far more often in her imagination than the reality.

He had to admit, she wasn't exactly everyone's ideal image of a girlfriend.

They drove back to the Edge, and then Rude left to beat the crap out of the man who was in charge of delivering the drugs to the warehouses, while Reno headed to the centre of the square to oversee the construction, which was currently resembling something that a ten-year-old might make with scrap pieces found in a back alley. Reno wasn't sure just what he was aiming for in terms of design, but he was fairly certain it wasn't this. But after all, this was just a marker to stake out for the future Shinra Tower, so who gave a fuck?

Oh right. People did.

"Hey, how's it goin'?" he asked nonchalantly as he neared the man who was working on the construction. There were usually about fifty people working on it at any given time except during the nighttime, when all the good people went home and all the bad people populated the streets. Sometimes the number swelled to over hundred.

He checked the progress - nowhere close to completion yet, but that was only to be expected, really - then observed the workers. _A memorial my ass,_ he thought. _Do a pity party with dead people. So not what we need._

But it was an excuse, and a good one, and he understood it. Understanding, however, didn't always come with action, and in this case, Reno was not feeling up to joining the crew. It reminded him of all the blame and accusations the people had thrown at them when the tower fell, only to expect them to do something about it the next moment. People were selfish and unwilling to consider the logic of their demands, and then they went on their merry ways to do whatever they wished, then blame others for it afterwards. And Turks wasn't a charity organisation.

He leaned onto the framework, observing the people come and go. The Edge was still growing, the buildings starting to soar; the Midgarians had a penchant for going upwards even when there was almost no city limit and certainly no lack of space. Maybe they missed Midgar. Or maybe they just were afraid to leave their dens. Who knew? Either way, the town was growing, no two days offering the same view twice, people rushing and going to and fro with expressions as if their businesses were the most important in the world. So minuscule in the grand scheme of things, but so large to each individual. Reno could claim the same about himself.

Or not. He did destroy one eight of a city, after all.

His eyes caught the sight of a familiar head, and he raised his hand in greeting. A punch didn't mean any evil intent in Reno's book, and he naturally assumed that it won't for anyone else. "Hey," he said.

Fabio - if that truly was his name - narrowed his eyes, and looked unhappy. Unhappy about what, he wasn't sure. The bruise was vivid on his face, but it was nothing time won't heal. Reno had sported worse.

"Yo, Fabio. Wanna join?"

He kept walking, but his eyes swam, as if he was looking for a way out… or a sufficient answer. It won't be yes, that much was certain, as he wasn't already at a work site doing whatever was needed. Well, he didn't exactly expect this slip of a kid to join the construction task force anyway. Oh well.

The Turk watched the blond boy walk past, then heard someone call his name and returned to the construction site. Still, he kept his eyes on the kid, wondering where the kid was off to; one could tell a lot from the places one frequented, and as an assassin and an occasional spy, Reno had a habit of checking things out, 'just in case'. Arien could tell a lot more from just looking at someone, but he wasn't a professionally trained espionage expert so there was a limit.

The kid walked down the alley. Reno frowned. If he guessed right, the kid was aiming straight toward the new Seventh Heaven, which was operated by Tifa Lockheart and was the base for Cloud Strife. Was the kid one of the former AVALANCHE's members or something? Doubtful; AVALANCHE didn't take in young members back then, and it pretty much went to pieces after the Meteor Fall. Friends? But Cloud Strife didn't make friends and Tifa was a bit too old to be 'friends' with the kid. Just a hangout?

Sure enough, the kid stopped in front of the bar, and disappeared through the doorway. Yup, Seventh Heaven. Reno checked, just in case, and saw the angel statue above the street. It had to be. Which could either mean an easier source of information for Arien's hunt, or further complications because of Tifa and Cloud's morals. When would people understand that morals didn't mean squat these days, and the best place for that kind of nonsense was up someone's ass? God!

Someone called Reno's name, and he catalogued the information away in his mind. They'd need it soon, probably, but not now. He returned to the current task at hand, his thoughts caterwauling through his head.

* * *

Rude Richardson was good at beating the crap out of people. In the term of old proverbs, he was the iron gauntlet while Reno was the velvet glove. Not that Reno actually did things the hard way if threatening them with a baton or a pistol made his life easier. But if a push came to shove, it was Rude's job to muscle it out, not Reno's.

And such was the case today. He needed to beat up a man to get to the next man, which probably led to more people until the Turks reached the final destination, whoever and wherever that was. It was a wild goose chase but they really had no other leads, and Rufus was determined in a Rufus-ish sort of way to get this thing off the streets. So here he was, putting on a pair of gloves - leather, and custom-tailored to fit his hands - so that he won't accidentally shave off his knuckles on some bastard's teeth.

"All the phones had one same number on it," Arien had said, twirling a pen between her fingers. It was a fountain pen, with a slender nib - where she had gotten such a luxury item Rude had no idea, but it appeared that Reno had rescued some of her possessions before everything went bonkers, so the pen might have been the part of the rescued goods - and fit her hand despite her abnormally long fingers. She twirled the pen as she explained the situation. "It seems to be just one guy."

"Seems?"

"I can't be sure, of course."

Some quick recon had told Reno that it was, indeed, just one man, and so Tseng had deemed it unnecessary to send more than Rude to this particular phase of the assignment. Which was why Rude was walking alone to this particular area of degeneracy instead of, say, sleeping. He was not pleased.

He counted the doors; they had no numbers. It must be one of those newer buildings that had sprouted out of nowhere overnight, and it had a sort of a fresh, unlived-in sort of look. Yet it lacked the polish his old apartment had, or the refinement and the ne plus ultra of where Tseng had taken residence, or the stark, sterile newness of the building where Reno and Arien had lived. It was a coarse sort of newness, not adzed, rough around the edges.

He muttered five under his breath. He neared the door, then knocked once, twice, thrice, in a steady beat; the door opened, and Rude's hand lashed out, grabbing the man's throat. He hefted him into the air, choking the man, then slammed the man into the wall.

"You're going to speak," Rude said softly - he always spoke softly, unlike his partner, who was boisterous and unnecessarily loud at times - then slackened his grasp slightly so the man could choke out a yes. "And you're going to answer all my questions."

_Or else,_ went the rest of sentence quietly, but the man croaked yes, frantic to save his ass by throwing everything else into the dump. Rude kicked the door shut behind him, then hauled the man down the corridor and into a room where there was a sofa so filthy that even Reno would have thought twice before placing his rump on it. He bodily threw the man onto the floor, straddled him, and grabbed his T shirt collar.

"Let's begin," he said. "I need to get to the drug distributor. Tell me the name."

"I, I, I don't know, man!" The man babbled. "I swear, I don't know, man!"

"Liar." The Turk's voice was soft, which was worse than if it had been loud. Rude meant business. He meant the serious kind of business that might end in death or worse.

There was a meaty slap and the man yelped as Rude's large fist connected with his jaw three times in rapid succession. Reno could be far crueler about this, Tseng detached, Arien almost clinical, but Rude could be none of them, and so he opted for the quick end to this sort of business. Sure, he liked excitement, but this kind of 'beat a helpless man for information' thing wasn't really up his alley.

But Rude was not Reno, and he could really pack a punch, more so than anyone else in the squad. He had taken care not to dislocate the jaw but not much else, and blood gushed from the split lip, spilling red all over the black leather of the glove.

"Who is he?" Rude demanded.

"I swear, I don't know! He goes by the name of Jakes. He tells me where to meet up so I can pick up the goods! Then I drop it off! That's it! I fuckin' swear!"

"Give me your phone."

"I, I, I can't, man! Jakes'll kill me!"

It was always the same. Ask for information with the rather clear promise of severe beating-up if the answers weren't given, then slap some people up because they never just agreed and talked, then ask for more information or some clue, and then they'd scream that they'd get killed and promptly piss in their trousers or lose their dinner. Why didn't any of them realise that while the Jakes might kill them later, the Turks would kill them right on the spot if they didn't comply? Or did they really think they'd be let go if they bawled? Unlikely!

Rude grabbed the man's throat again, throwing him up against the wall. "Do you know what happens when someone steps on your testicles?" he asked calmly, as if he was asking if the victim wanted tea or coffee.

The man paled. It worked every time; no man wanted to hear what happened when someone stepped onto a man's privates. The man gulped, eyes bulging.

"You won't… you can't…"

Rude smiled. Raised his foot.

The man screamed like a little bitch that he was.

"Give me the phone," Rude ordered.

And he did, almost scrambling and falling over himself to get to it and press the gadget into his hands. The big man flipped the phone open to check. It seemed legit, so Rude slid it into his pocket.

The man was curled up in a foetal position, sobbing, whether from the fear or pain or both. Rude watched the man blubber for a moment, then pulled out his Desert Eagle. He wasn't really into outright murder, but it couldn't be helped; he couldn't have anyone blabbing, and the dead didn't speak as often as the living. The gun was large, but not quite so in his hands. It would have been too big for anyone else to use as a sidearm comfortably.

The man never saw it coming, as he was too busy crying; there was a slight bang, muffled by the suppressor that he had attached before pulling the trigger.

He did not check to see whether the man was dead. There was no need, and he did not want to see his handiwork that closely. He missed the days when danger was right around the corner, instead of just beating up almost defenceless people to get information that barely mattered in the grand scheme of things.

Long ago, many things had been at the stake, with the Turks gambling their lives to win the day. But since the Meteor Crisis, their gambles were smaller, the stakes lesser, and Rude was feeling restless. He had never been at this job looking for the thrill of beating up weaker people, no; he had been in it to gamble his life against unknown opponents, to use everything he had and win, to feel that moment of exhilaration that he had defeated an equal, or even an opponent that overmatched him. But no more. Now they were relegated to hurting people who were clearly no match for them.

Rude missed the days when he could feel the rush of the danger, the adrenaline, and wished for something large enough to feel that rush again, that thrill. But wishing never did anything for him, and so he sighed as he left the dead body behind, hoping that he would have better days soon, so he won't have to look back and feel wretched.


	15. Strange People with Familiar Faces

\- I'm really looking forward to... now to come and think of it, just how the Turks turn out, because they got the biggest character changes from the game. Are they comedians again (in which case Reno'd probably electrocute himself instead of dropping the plate), or are they a band of black-op squad? Otherwise, I think FF7 needs a new story.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - still writing! Still massively behind! The only difference is that it's super-hot right now and I'm mostly lying around like a beached seal. I've decided that I don't care if the season setting's wrong in this fic, it's summer and that's the end of it. I'm blaming Sephiroth if it's supposed to be winter.

blob80 - Reno's been in... okay, a lot of beds. But not as many as one'd think. He didn't really strike me as the kind of a guy who'd have messy break-ups; he's too smart for that. I also think he's a superficial chauvinist, the kind that makes teases girls during teenage years. But he's the kind of a person I want to show me the ropes.

Chapter 14: Strange People with Familiar Faces

* * *

Reno yanked the sweat-soaked shirt off from his body, grimacing in distaste as the fabric slithered across his skin before leaving his flesh. It had gotten too hot, later in the afternoon, and he had worked without his jacket. Unfortunately, no air had come his way, and he had returned to the apartment feeling decidedly sticky and overall, not very clean.

"Man, it's hot," he groused as Arien produced a fluffy towel and gave it to him. "It's fuckin' hot. Something is seriously messing up with the weather."

"Go get cleaned up," said the woman as she moved into the kitchen.

"Tell me we aren't having hot casserole for dinner."

"I'm not crazy," came the retort. Then the footsteps softly went away. Reno stepped into the shower, smelling the tomato and oil from the kitchen. Since Reno had taught her about Costan cuisine, the dining table had been seeing a lot more tomatoes than before. He wasn't about to complain; after all, he was rather partial to tomato-flavoured dishes. Arien once commented off-handedly that his hair would turn red without the dye anyway, from all the tomatoes he was consuming on the daily basis now that someone was watching what he was eating.

The shower was refreshing, the smell of mint and lavender in the air as he washed himself, getting the day's worth of grime and sweat off that spiralled down the drain with the soap. He came out refreshed, and by the time he had come into the living room drying his hair, Arien was checking the pan as the contents inside sizzled. The air was filled with the fragrance of herbs and food. It suddenly struck him that maybe he liked her like this more than he liked her slinging guns and putting her life on the line.

Which he couldn't tell her, because she'd probably blow up and call him sexist.

The plates were already out, the silverware neatly lined up. Despite the drastic shortages of everything nowadays, Arien still managed to set a table that would usually merit a guest or two. One thing he had learned about the woman he lived with was that she was a creature of strict stoicism but also of decadence when it came to the five senses; she refused to wear synthetic fibre unless there was a damn good reason to, for instance, and she never even looked at processed dairy. Refined was the word that fit her, and even Rude was beginning to notice Reno's slight changes. He never came in with a rumpled, un-ironed shirt, for instance. Sure, they'd have creases all over by the end of the day, but when he came in during the mornings the collars were stiffly starched.

She finally came in from the kitchen bearing a large platter of salad. Sitting down, she removed the cloth napkin - it was more economical than using paper - and set it on her lap. Reno did the same, recalling the days when he'd just scarf down whatever. Over the past few years he'd learned how to use silverware properly, how to set a place - although why one'd need more than just a glass he'd never understand - and to eat without spilling. He sometimes indulged himself eating on the sofa, but over all, he was turning from an unruly, mannerless yokel into someone who would have a handkerchief around. Which was starting to unsettle him.

"So," he said, "I saw the kid today."

Arien looked at him. "Kid? Which kid? Your kid?"

Reno took the pitcher of dressing. "The kid I thought about beating up."

"Oh!" She shrugged sarcastically. "That kid! Wait, which kid?"

"The kid I landed a hit on."

"Oh." She took the dressing back from him, then put it on the table. "What about him?"

"He doesn't trust me."

She was sprinkling salt onto the vegetables, but she put down the fork and stared at him again. "You're an assassin, a kidnapper, a scoundrel and a thief. And you expect him to trust you?"

"Puckish rogue!" He protested, but then thought better of it. "You're right."

The weird thing about Renaldo Miller was the fact that he did seem to have certain standards of morality. Kidnapper, scoundrel, and thief were labels that he was perfectly fine with, but murderer was not something he could tolerate with good humour. Assassin was a label that he could live with, but any other term implicating his hand in other people's deaths was something that he naturally exploded about. The Turks had long ago learned to avoid that land mine.

"Why do you want to get to know him, anyway?" the woman asked curiously. "I mean, sure, we have to figure out where he came from eventually, but that doesn't mean anything but a job, right?"

Reno thought for a moment, chewing. Why did he care? Sure, he was supposed to care about the kid, but purely in a business sense. But now that Arien had pointed it out, he realised that it was a little more than that.

He actually wanted to get to know the kid.

"I guess I just wanna get to know him," Reno admitted. "Rufus never had a family except us, and we ain't no family. Not for Rufus anyway. He had that sociopath for dad and no siblings and no mum. That must have sucked."

"As I recall, your family wasn't the picture of happiness either."

"But we had our good moments. It's just that the bad moments were way more than the good moments, but we did have those." Reno gestured for the pepper. "The kid has no idea he has a brother and Rufus has no idea what it's like to have a family. I feel bad."

"Pity?" She goggled, all theatric. "Renaldo Miller is pitying?"

"I do." _Especially now that I know what it feels like to care and be cared._ But he didn't tell her that. He couldn't, because he didn't want to admit that it was because he felt sappy about it.

What about families? His thoughts were heavily preoccupied with the concept these days; he had revisited his own, realised that they weren't what he had been looking for; he had met Arien's, if her father could be called her family still, realised that despite the fondness, the similarity of thoughts, even blood ties, there was a huge gulf between them that could not be bridged easily. Rufus had no family - not in the sense of united front tied by blood, anyway - and Rude had a mother and no one else. Elena had a father and a sister, but she had a long-standing rivalry with her sister that had been partly spurred on by her father, and she wasn't feeling happy about it. And Tseng… who knew about Tseng's anything except what he did at work? They were fucked-up people.

She shrugged. "Well, you always had a soft spot for people. Not sure who qualifies for that spot or how, but you always did."

"I didn't!"

She smirked. "Oh? Don't you have a soft spot for me?"

"Is this the part where I say all the crap about how you're perfectly fine by yourself and try to support feminism? Oh wait, that's 'Laney. Never mind." The dressing flew away from the fork in a messy glob and landed somewhere between his plate and the serving dish. She frowned.

"You shouldn't gesticulate that wildly," she said mildly.

"Is this where you go after my ass and get naggy?"

"I'm not nagging, I'm just saying."

"Yeah yeah. On the topic of empty wishes, I kinda wish your breasts were a tad bigger."

Reno had just crossed the safety line, not realising that breasts weren't Arien's favourite things to talk about when it came to her body. She had always been touchy about how she wasn't exactly sporting a pair of double D's, and Reno had almost never mentioned them, because he liked her everywhere else. But he was annoyed at her telling him off, and it had slipped out.

"If you want breasts," she said, her voice dangerously quiet, "maybe you should go back to your mother."

Ouch. Not exactly the topic he had wanted to broach. He must have been glaring at her, because she pursed her lips for a moment, then opened her mouth with an apologetic look on her face.

"I'm sorry," she said. "That was uncalled for."

"Yeah, it fuckin' was."

"But you still flung that glob of dressing onto the table."

"Sorry," he said. The lettuce crunched in his mouth, the buttery flavour melting into the shrimp and the avocado. "I'll clean-"

"No, don't bother. You'd just make the stain worse. But you owe me one." She pursed her lips for a moment. "Maybe we should watch the table manners from now on."

"What?! What for?!"

She shrugged. "It might be in the far future, but there'll be someday when you're going to _have_ to attend a formal dinner, Reno. As a spy or an assassin or what have you. You're going to have to pass as a guest, and flinging dressings isn't going to cut it…" The phone rang and Arien got up to get it, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Reno grimaced. If this was the family stuff, then family was clearly waaaaay too overrated.

He listened, waiting for Arien to come back, to continue the meal, but she did not; and when she did, she was frowning, as if she was puzzled or suspicious. "Who was that?" he asked.

"Siva," she replied, sitting down again and picking up the fork. "She wants us to meet at her place. Told her I'll be right over after dinner."

"What does she want?"

"Dunno. Didn't say." She sighed. "But I'm guessing she needs to tell it in person, otherwise she would have told me already."

* * *

After the dinner, Arien went, in a swirl of white and black. The heat was still lingering in the air, and Reno had gone with her to replenish his supply of cigarettes. The nighttime really got cold at times, but not tonight; the daytime had been filled with humidity and the sun, the sun that made him remember his childhood in Costa del Sol, where the sun would beat down harshly down on the skin with an almost aggressive intensity and the air would be so thick it felt like custard.

"God, it's hot," Arien moaned as she stepped out into the street. She was dressed in a knee-length sheer hoodie for decency's sake, but underneath she was dressed in a midriff top and linen trousers. Not exactly heat-conserving attire, but still she moaned. As for the redhead, he was starting to hate clothes. One bad point of being mako-enhanced was that their upped metabolism generated high heat, making summers even more unbearable. He missed those carefree days, when he had been a small child and the most he needed to think about was where to quench his thirst before running off into the streets again in a game of tag.

Reno rubbed his temple, nursing a sleepy kind of headache. It thrummed with his pulse, aggravating him. Was it hotter in The Edge or was it because of the lack of regular air-conditioning? Such things were reserved for the invalids and the disabled these days, with the underlying message being "if you can walk and shit, you don't deserve it". People were looking grouchy and cranky.

They parted ways at the town square, where Reno had been working earlier. A simple hand gesture by the face to remind each other to call before going home, and Reno watched as Arien walked off.

_Maybe she__'s better off without all the blood and killing. Maybe we should both quit. Maybe we can run off to Mideel and start a chocobo farm. Yeah right. _

Reno began walking. He was well aware of the fact that they were unable to leave the city to make a living. They had grown up in the city, had thrived in its uncaring environment, and could do nothing without missions to carry out and people to silence. His entire raison d'etre depended on his identity as the member of the Investigation Sector, and he wasn't the only one. There were personal differences but everyone - even Rude - self-defined based on the black uniform to some degree. Once a Turk, always a Turk, or so went the saying, and one phone call could move even those who had ditched the uniforms back into them. In a way, the sector was like a family; even if you wanted to forever stay away and erase all traces of the fact that you were once a member, there'd always be a lingering reminder.

The hair stuck to his face, and he peeled it off, blowing at it to keep it away from his forehead. The town thrummed with energy even at the brink of its sleep, and he acutely felt it. If Midgar was a city that never slept, The Edge was like a young child, unwilling to sleep and eager to get up every morning. And the people were willing to acquiesce with the low energy output for now, but he knew that sooner or later they'd start demanding the same energy consumption allowed to them before the Meteor Crisis. Rufus wasn't a fool, and the young president was lying in wait, ready to seize the chance and rebuild his vast empire the moment the opportunity came along. And well, he needed the Turks for that.

He turned the corner and ducked into a tiny shop. It was a shop that was infinitely grey in the terms of pricing, demanding exorbitant prices that fluctuated by the day, sometimes by the hour. It was also one of the few places that offered cigarettes at an oddly cheap price compared to the other merchants. He supposed it was because the shop offered drugs at a much higher price and saw no need to reap profits from the cigarettes.

"The usual," he said to the shopkeeper. "Make it two."

"Still smoking pack a day?" the shopkeeper asked. He knew of Reno by face and name, if nothing more; the underworld folks tended to know of each other, and the Turks were not off the radar in that sense. "Your girlfriend says nothin'?"

"Nope." He shrugged. "How much?" He scowled at the named price. "You keep jackin' the price up like that, you're gonna lose customers."

"I'm already losing customers, boy. Business ain't what it used to be." He gave a casual nod toward the doorway as it opened with a tinkle of a bell. "Gelica."

Reno turned, and saw recognition flash across the woman's face, although he did not recognise her at all. She was a prostitute from the looks of it - bare legs, skirt that was far too short to be appropriate, low-cut shirt with a purple bra peeking from the hem, far too much make-up and excessively styled hair were all telltale signs of a hooker. It had been when Reno had been in the cartel and it seemed it hadn't changed. He wasn't sure who she was. He had known a few prostitutes, thanks to his first assignment as a gang member and also because the hookers were a good source of information for the Turks, but was she one of the informants? Or?

"Reno?"

Ah, damn damn damn! What was up with his sexual past coming back to bite him in the ass these days? Did he sleep with her? He had made it a rule not to sleep with a prostitute when he had first joined the Triad, after seeing their sordid lives and not willing to partake in its rot. He had been assigned to be the runt for prostitute-related problems, and being fifteen, he wasn't above being interested in breasts. But his "bro", so to speak, had warned him not to sample the merchandise. It was the best advice he had gotten during his time as a Triad member.

His blank look must have given him away, for the woman pouted. For some reason he found the face grotesque. "It's Angelica?"

Angelica. The name was familiar, and after a moment, he realised who she was. It wasn't a happy memory.

Angelica Nicks had been a young woman who had a penchant for expensive clothing. Buying beyond her means had made her finances spiral out of hand, and soon enough she was a regular with the various loan sharks. And when she failed to meet the deadline, the sharks resorted to a recourse.

Women, unlike most men, have one asset they are naturally born with. The sharks demanded her to make use of it, and so one of them had brought her to the Triad to make use of her. The verdict was simple: a whorehouse, indefinite period of service until all loans were paid back. This seemed unlikely, as the interest was fifty percent every ten days and it was swelling at an alarming rate.

Reno had watched over her, collecting money on schedule. She had confided in him - barely twenty and already in the mire, she appeared to have no one to turn to except him, and he had been an idiot back then - but soon enough he moved up from being the runt and the duties were handed to someone else. And he had not seen her since then, even when she had tried to see him, diligently avoiding the advances. Three years after Angelica Nicks had come to the Triad's whorehouse, Reno had left the organisation to join the Investigation Sector.

Now they stood, face to face in the shop. Angelica had grown older, and not in a good manner. Prostitution sucked the vivacity out of women, and she evidently hadn't been exempted from the fate. On the other hand, Reno was now taller, now a man instead of a teenage boy, with sharp eyes and a sly smile.

"Hi, Angelica," he said. "How you been?"


	16. Two Declarations

Bloodwitch Raven - Well, close... that arc does end in this chapter, and not in a good way. Reno has a lot of past to get through, and this is just one of them. He never really grew up, maybe it's time.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - The sequel to this is an entirely new arc, not relying on any canon material (which means please read the sequel once I get to it).

A week behind. Yikes.

Chapter 15: Two Declarations

* * *

Reno, for the first time in his life, didn't have a smart-alec quip to come back with for this particular shock. So all he managed was a lame "erm, so what's goin' on?"

"Stuff." She sat down on the ground - benches were a luxury these days - and Reno leaned onto the wall. He offered her a cigarette, which she took. He knew that she had bought her own along with a bottle of some illegal booze that was most likely four-fifth detergent, but said nothing about. She also offered to light his, which he refused. White smoke rose, a wisp of fog against the heat and the coming night. The pistol in the back of his trousers made the almost inaudible _crunch_ against the concrete wall. "You? Haven't seen you for a long time. Are you still with the Triad?"

Reno had seen enough women with that come-hither look to notice it on her face. "Nope," he said, shaking his head. Her blonde hair was almost as artificial as his. She looked tired, tired of life, of its sordid treatment of her; a wilted flower, trodden on and turning brown; _life leached out too soon,_ Reno thought, then suddenly remembered Arien. She had the delicate curves of a flower too, but she was made of steel, unyielding and unfading, never changing. He wondered which was really better.

"So, erm…" The woman looked up. "You're looking much better."

"I grew up."

"Not just that, handsome." She stood up, sliding her buttocks against the concrete, shrugging her shoulders and slightly leaning onto him. "Definitely not a kid anymore."

"It happens. It's been goin' around, you know?" He moved slightly away, not looking at her. She was his past, the past that while he wasn't exactly against, wasn't something he wanted to openly admit either. Unlike the rest of the Turks, his origins were humble, built upon women like this and junkies that ended up dead in the gutter. He sometimes felt as if he was sitting upon a pile of corpse.

"Hey, wanna meet up sometime?"

Argh. So this wasn't some social thing, but she had ulterior motives. He wasn't interested in any of the options; gods only knew how many body parts had been inside this woman. He suddenly had a vision of himself sticking his bits down the rubbish bin, and let out a snort.

Angelica looked at him. "What?"

"Nothin', nothin'."

What was he supposed to tell her? That she was his past that he didn't want to remember, the days when he had barely escaped the gutters, that she was just a piece of furniture he had inevitably used to save his hide? Did she deserve it? Probably not; but then again, he didn't see any need to lie to her either. She deserved better than his lies. He had lied too often, to the world, to everyone, and he had ended up in a deep hole last time.

"So, when do you wanna meet up?"

He wanted to just brush her off, tell her that she was inconsequential, walk away, but couldn't, because Angelica Nicks was his past and he wasn't the one to run away from his past when he knew that it would drag him down eventually. Maybe if he could turn back time, he could have learned to live right; but he couldn't turn back time, and he was stuck here with a prostitute who shared a moment of his history. His first job. His first step. A baby step.

He didn't need to tell her. With a woman's instinct, she knew.

"You have someone else, don't you?" Angelica asked.

Reno looked away. He couldn't explain the bond he had with Arien; normal people didn't make a living out of pointing guns at people's heads, not even prostitutes. Reno trusted her not because of her kindness, but because of her determination, her dedication, and her ability to disengage her emotions and act purely on logic. He trusted her to pull the trigger, even at him, if it was necessary. He knew that she valued him more than she did herself, and if she could kill him, then she'd have no qualms sacrificing herself for the cause.

It sounded cold and cruel, but this was what he needed. He had given up on a normal life, and he needed someone to understand that, and be able to share it. Sure, hookers didn't have a "normal" life either, but it wasn't filled with the fear that the morning might never come. It was a fear of daylight while wanting to be in it, the fear of dying, bleeding out in the alley, unable to scream, unable to call for help… it was a fear that all Turks had, but Arien was the only one who'd shown it to him. Under that porcelain mask was just another human being, another Turk, who was just as afraid at times as he was.

That refusal to meet her eyes was enough for Angelica. Tears welled in her eyes - they used to be so innocent, so blue, so helpless, where were those blue eyes now? - but behind the tears Reno saw a shrewdness of a female who sought a male as her shield, wondered just how much men had taken from women like her to leave them lifeless, empty husks.

Women were curious things. Some sold it, as if one could slice it up and distribute it. Others, like Siva, used it as a weapon. Then women like Ivy naturally accepted it as a natural right. And then there was Arien, who feared it.

"I did everything for you!" Angelica moaned. "I lied for you. I stole for you. I even fucked for you, all these years! And you go and throw me away, turn to some skank. Nobody loves you like I do! It should be me! Me!"

Reno said nothing.

"Do you know how many I had to suck off?! Do you?!" She cried, tears making an odd harlequin out of her face. She fumbled through the bag, located the bottle, unscrewed the cap. Reno narrowed his eyes, a bitter realisation dawning upon him; Angelica wasn't just a hooker, she was a raging alcoholic, and from the way her lips looked a little white, she was using hyper. She had fallen to the darkest, deepest depths of prostitution, the level Violetta tried so desperately to keep her own girls away from. He silently thanked her for that. "Every single guy just does his business. They just stick it in my hole. All for you! Everything for you! Do you know how it feels, while a fat tub of lard's riding you, using you as a hole, and you have to just sit tight? Do you?!"

Well, no. But how was he supposed to know? He wondered.

"Angelica, you could have left. Your debt should've been paid off years ago. Why the hell did you stick around?"

"Why? You ask me that? You fucker!" She sputtered. "For you! I saved money so I could give it to you!"

"What?!"

"I heard you talking! That you needed money to go higher up! You asshole! You total asshole! You fucked me just like everyone else!"

"What the fuck? You actually thought-" Reno's fists were clenched, and he could swear that he heard the blood rushing through his veins. "Nobody buys me, dammit! You're fucking shot out of your mind, but what in Bahamut's asscrack makes you think that I'd owe you just because you started fucking everything on two legs to earn me money?!"

Okay, there was definitely a vein throbbing on his forehead, he could tell that much. Maybe that was taking it a bit too far. He took a couple of deep breaths to try and calm down, and while they didn't get rid of the pulsating ball of heat in his chest, they helped enough for him to stop shouting. He was now feeling just as soiled as she was. She sought to buy his feelings with a fistful of gils? What the fuck?!

_Breathe, Reno, breathe._

He tried to calm himself down, but once incensed, his nerves remained on fire. Without realising, the mask slipped, and Angelica flinched when she saw his eyes: the eyes of Asura, Arien called them, sharper than knives and eager for death, cruel and cold, thirsting for blood.

And then the mask was back in place.

"Look... look. I get that you did it for me so thanks, but no way did I ask you to do all this. Just get out of my sight." Reno turned away. "And I never wanna see you again, got that? I don't know you."

Angelica nodded dumbly, clearly unable to assimilate what was going on. Reno trod on the cigarette and began walking, taking a deep breath. _Past should remain a past,_ Reno thought bitterly as he made his way home through the twilight.

_It__'s a past and not the present for a reason._

* * *

Siva Felthant had always been categorised as pretty, but her kind was the demanding kind, almost abusive in its call for attention. With hair the colour of a very ripe sort of cherries and vividly green eyes, she was life personified, with all its lushness and vibrancy, unlike Felicita's almost ethereal whiteness, Ivy's silvery femininity, or Arien's monochrome.

So Arien was taken back when she felt that something had been purified in her friend; previously her beauty had almost demanded people's attention, but now it merely existed as a fact, without fanfare, without taking. It was not particularly something about Siva that she could pinpoint, but it was there, a slight change that changed the entire picture.

"Hi, Arien," said her friend, her red hair swinging. "Come in."

Arien frowned but obeyed her friend, wordless. The flat was empty. "Axil?" She asked.

"He's out."

Arien frowned, but sat when Siva told her to, and took the steaming mug without saying a word. Siva sat down in front of her, smiled. "Arien, can I ask you for a favour?"

"That'd depend. What is it?"

"I want to learn how to cook."

Arien's eyebrows shot up to her hairline. "You don't cook," she pointed out, putting down the mug onto the end table that was slightly wobbly. "What's the change? Axil threatening you?"

"Ax's fine," came the reply. "It's just that he's never eaten anything I made, you know? And I thought it might be nice to give it a try."

"Well, Siva, I-"

The doorbell rang again. "Be right back," said Siva, and stood up. "Think about it, please?"

"I still don't get why you changed your mind."

Siva, who was about to disappear down the corridor, turned her head. And the smile that she wore was… Arien wondered if she had missed out on something. It was a smile, if raising the corners of the mouth was a smile, but if anything, Arien could swear Siva was about to cry. But not much moved Siva Felthant, and certainly not much made her cry. What was going on?

Her thoughts were interrupted with a lively chatter. Her ears caught familiar voices: Felicita and Ivy, who were not only her best friends but Siva's as well. She continued to stare into her mug until the two women burst in. "Arien! What're you doing here?"

"The same thing you two are, I assume." She shrugged towards the ginger, who was disappearing into the kitchen. "Otherwise, no idea."

"Where's Axil?" asked Felicita.

"Out, apparently."

Siva soon returned with three more mugs, then took one for herself after passing the other two to the newcomers. "The reason I asked you guys here," she said once everyone had settled down, "is because I needed to tell you guys something. You guys only."

"You're pregnant!" Ivy cried. Felicita and Arien looked at each other. Years as spies had taught them the necessary signs to look out for to uncover what others were truly feeling or thinking, and neither could detect joy from under Siva's face. Resignation, maybe, but not joy.

"I'm not." Siva put down the mug. "And the reason why Axil's not here is because I don't want him to freak out and I'm not ready to tell him yet. You guys are my best friends, and I'm sorry I'm making you live through this, but I had to tell someone." She sighed. "I have Geostigma."

* * *

The room was entirely silent.

"What?" Ivy broke the silence. Felicita was shaking her head, as if she didn't want to believe it. Arien was immobile, frozen.

"I have Geostigma."

"We heard that part. When did you find out?"

"Two weeks ago." Siva sighed. "I saw a physician. A reputable one," she added hastily when Felicita opened her mouth. "I kept… having blinding pain, but I thought maybe it was stress. It wasn't."

The women looked at Arien, who was still motionless. Siva saw the muscles beside her eyes twitch ever so slightly, and understood that only her superior control had allowed her to remain expressionless; and that was how Arien was, always without expression, trying not to show what she was feeling, as if it gave the opponent too much advantage. She was one of those people who had hated being organic before she even underwent the Mako radiation treatment. She never really was the type to allow people into her personal space.

"Arien?"

"Hmm?" She turned her head.

"Are you okay?"

"Of course I am. You should be asking that to Siva, Ivy." She turned toward the woman in question. "Siva, if there's anything you need, just ask, okay?"

_Now I understand,_ her eyes said. _Now I know. _

The four women sat, silent, trying to digest the news. Siva had always been the most physical, the most vibrant, the most realistic; the thought of her ill was hard to comprehend and even harder to digest, and the three women struggled.

"How… bad is it?" Ivy asked.

"It's… not good. But I'm not going to keel over and pass out any time soon." Siva's smile was strained; Ivy again missed it, but Felicita knew, and a glance at the dark-haired woman told her that Arien knew as well.

They left not long after, none of them knowing what to say or what to do. Siva had smiled all the way as she saw them out, telling them not to worry, and that she just 'wanted to give a heads-up, just in case'. The three women walked together to the plaza, where the memorial was turning, slowly and painstakingly, from an idea to a reality. Wordless, they sat down near it, watching the junk pile.

"Do you think she'll be okay?" Felicita asked softly. Ivy swallowed.

"I don't know, Fellie. Siva said she's fine. We just have to trust her for now."

"She'll be fine, right?" Felicita insisted.

Arien said nothing. She was supposed to be used to people dying; and she was used to shouldering guilt for most deaths she saw, but it so happened that she was directly responsible for most of them in one way or another. It could be said that she was responsible for this illness as well, but then, so were everyone else. Shinra hadn't prospered without help, and they were all party to the crime, in one way or another.

But Siva… why her? Recent research had hypothesised that those who had deemed themselves doomed were the most likely to contract Geostigma, but she couldn't imagine Siva, the lively, happy Siva, even thinking about the possibility of dying. It was likely that the thought had crossed everyone's minds that day, but Siva?

Suddenly, Felicita began to cry. Arien and Ivy wrapped their arms around her, being able to do nothing but be there for her; Felicita was the closest to Siva out of the three, and the news must have been the biggest shock for the crying woman.

"She has to be fine," Felicita sobbed. "It's Siva. She has to be fine. She's done nothing wrong! She's fine!"

But Arien couldn't lie, so all she could do was rub her back as Felicita wept for her friend. Fear stabbed through her heart; who was going to be next? How many will be gone before the cure is found? Will there be a cure? So far, the mortality rate was a full hundred percent, with no case of recovery being reported; people died an agonising, brutal and a messy death, spilling black puss everywhere as they suffered in pain.

Despair was now killing people.

Ivy eventually said that she had to go back and left. Arien walked Felicita home then went back to her own. Reno must have noticed that something was amiss, but when Arien indicated that she couldn't talk about it, he nodded and left the matter alone. Something was off about him too; he had a haunted look. Not regret, no, but as if he had recalled a particularly nasty nightmare that he hadn't really wanted to remember.

That night, they slept away from each other. The empty space between their bodies lay heavily between them, two secrets that neither was willing to share. The dawn came, bringing with her the heat, making the air stifling and oppressive.

They didn't speak to each other about that night afterwards. In hindsight, they should have.


	17. Hot Manoeuvres

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - Geostigma's going to play a major role in the story; well, we already knew that, but there's going to be a bit of an emotional upheaval for the crew. I don't think a lot of people were _happy_ during this period, and Arien's not really a happy person to begin with. Sorry Arien, you're not done with your bad days yet. And Reno... well, learning to care about someone is going to have its drawbacks. But there's a big difference between FF7 Reno and AC Reno, and that must mean something happened.

Okay, I get it. Unsteady updates mean loss of readers. Lesson learned...

Chapter 16: Hot Manoeuvres

* * *

"So," said Arien the morning after the next, "Jakes - real name Jacob Drosser - is Corneo's drug manager. Hang on a second." She frowned, looked at the redhead, who was boredly stirring what could have passed as coffee if someone was so coffee-deprived that they would have drank swill if it was available. "I thought you turned Corneo into a paste at the bottom of the Wutai ranges."

"Apparently the fat lard made it." Reno made a face, contorting his beautiful face into a comical version. "I think it was all the fat. Cushioned the bastard and made him bounce."

"Wasn't one of your best days, huh?"

"It was my off day. Be thankful I bothered to do anything at all."

The Turks, sans Tseng and Elena - as per usual - were crowding around a small table, where Arien was painstakingly reviewing the available information and trying to plan the next step. Reno, Rude and Elena had collectively decided not to report that particular incident back in Wutai, and so she could not find any files on the case, nor information except what the three Turks could give her. She was getting aggravated, but there was nothing to be done about it. Rude had gone out to reconnoitre after he had beaten the information out of the dealer like one would beat weevils out of a bag of flour. Concise and to the point, Rude had written everything down instead of delivering the information orally, which was usually Reno's method. She silently wondered how the two ever got along.

"Where is Corneo, anyway?" asked Reno.

"Two possible locations, according to Rude's memo." Arien spread the map out onto the table, took a marker. "One's here" - she marked it with an X - "and the other's here. We need to hit the one to the west, and it has to be tonight. There's another shipment going out tomorrow, and tracing those down to collect them would be a nightmare."

"What's the other place?" Rude asked. His expression told her that he had based his assumptions for the possible locations on reasons that didn't actually involve seeing Corneo use the toilet. Traffic, perhaps? That meant they'd have to be extra-careful when they went in. The Turks Blue still commanded fear and in many cases, wariness.

"Second base?" She hazarded a guess. "Or an office."

"How d'you know it's that one?"

Arien turned a laptop towards the redhead. "I tapped into the surveillances. It's an older system, and it's a piece of junk."

Reno frowned. He had been in Corneo's den before, and it hadn't been a particularly pleasant experience. The man had no taste, and this was coming from him, who lacked any taste whatsoever. His den had been a blinding mish-mash of colours that should never have coexisted in the first place, and he wasn't the one to talk about hairstyles, but blond mohawk wasn't exactly the one he'd consider easy on the eye. Especially for a man who was dressed like the king in a deck of cards. He considered offing Corneo to be one of his very few contributions to the human society, but apparently he'd fucked that one up, because Corneo was still alive, kicking, and still in control of the Midgar underworld.

"What about the security?"

"What security? It's a bunch of goons. There's nothing high-tech, Reno. No lasers, no holo-controls, nada. This isn't Scarlet's office."

Which put Reno's mind at ease. Back when Shinra was still up and running, security defence systems had been Scarlet's side project, and none of them had been too pretty. Some of them borderlined on maniac scientist, and he remembered a particularly nasty one that involved a system that literally required the entrant to get his eye pierced through the pupil. Tripping the alarms usually ended up with the tripper dead or worse. "All-right." The redhead stood up. "Let's go, Arie."

"Why me?"

"Tseng and 'Laney went to gods only know where and Rude's on guard duty. I need a back-up, just in case. Usually people have a hard time talking when they're spitting out teeth. Besides, don't you wanna see the old man?"

"Not particularly."

"All-right. Don't you wanna see me beat up the old man?"

Arien paused at that with pursed lips. "All-right." She picked up the Glock from the table and holstered it. "Let's bring a few CRS's, just in case."

"Why? Reckon we'd be climbin'?"

Arien shrugged as she bent down to get the climbing gear out of the crate. "Let's just say I've had to deal with the bastard before," she said, digging through the myriad of equipment that the Turks had salvaged and stock-piled. "It won't hurt to be prepared." She tossed a few lemon-sized objects towards the redhead, who caught it. A pair of gloves followed. Reno slid the gloves into his pocket.

A few minutes later, Rude watched the pair disappear on a motorcycle. Car would become too unwieldy, and there were only two anyway, so the redhead had decided to leave the vehicle to Rude. There was an unspoken 'just in case' between the three, but they did not say it out loud. They'd head straight to the old Midgar, where Corneo supposedly still lived. It was a wonder how the pimp had managed to survive the seven-storey fall, but if the rumours were true, then someone must have saved his sorry hide from really turning into monster chow. _A pity,_ Rude thought silently as he paced. _Some vermin should be exterminated._

* * *

Reno stopped the motorcycle at what he perceived to be the entrance to the Wall Market district, and looked up. "Man," he sniffed, "this looks even worse than before the Fall."

Arien was rubbing her rump. "What do we do with the CMS?" She asked. CMS - an abbreviation for Cam, Rope, Spring - was a lightweight climbing gear that could be attached to the belt. It could easily be concealed in pockets, the cam itself being no larger than a lemon. When thrown, the cam would flip open and attach itself to the nearby surface of most buildings. It was one of the little gadgetries that the SOLDIERs had used back during the war when scaling buildings, chasing ninjas that Wutai produced in abundance. Reno had salvaged it from one of the stockpiles. She palmed the weight of it in her hand, rolling it around.

"Let's keep 'em in our pockets. Wires in," Reno decided. "Corneo'd probably think we've strapped ourselves with nitros if he sees a wire sticking out. He'd go bonkers."

"I'm going to need a bath after this."

"Not a fan of the old man?"

"Is anyone?" came the wry reply, and Reno grinned. He could imagine the woman developing a severe distaste for the once-ruler of the Midgar underworld; he was the only one Arien allowed to treat her as a female, and even then that was only in their privacy. It wasn't like she'd trumpet feminism around, but a slight glance, a frown sufficed to let him know that she wasn't going to let her gender prevent her from doing anything. Not during work, at least. In bed… well, that was another topic entirely. Reno grinned to himself one last time, earning a suspicious look from his coworker, then turned the personal mode off. It was showtime, and any distraction was a bad one, even if it was just beating up an invalid. He brass-checked, just in case, then holstered the Jericho. Guns were loud and messy. He'd prefer not to use it, but Arien, on the other hand, was trigger-happy if nothing else. She reached for her pistols faster than anyone on the squad and wasn't squeamish about using them.

Well, she also had better aim than he did.

A quick check of equipment - gloves, climbing gear, spare clips, rod charge - and they were ready to go. "Ready?" he asked with a slightly comical look on his face.

"Let's get this over with."

They walked through the falling avenues, sidestepping slabs of concrete, debris, and other detritus that a broken city would produce but would not prompt anyone to clean up. A few ragged-looking people with hungry looks on their faces stared at them, but said nothing when they saw the colour of their suits. Reno acutely felt that he was still the boogeyman for many of the former Midgar residents. The Turks were an existence that, for many, were mostly urban legends, words whispered in fear. Fear was a weapon that Shinra had used with extreme effectiveness, so much so that the blue-black suit commanded fear all by itself.

And it did a world of good when they got to the supposed location of Corneo's hideout. A simple 'point-the-gun-at-the-forehead' game and they were in without even so much as a bodycheck. Clearly the quality of the lackeys had gone down since the last time, for Reno remembered Corneo's men with a bit more spine than giving in after a woman's threat with a Sig. But then again, Arien was a Turk, all-right. For someone who dealt in the black market and gangs, it was vital to know who was a killer and who wasn't, and well, Arien had killed before. Anyone who wasn't a rookie could see it. As for himself… well, the entire floor had known him as dangerous, ruthless, utterly without inhibition and prone to breaking and going postal. Reno generally reined himself in but even then the control was straining against his wildly erratic streak. He was constantly battling his derangement more than anything else.

The house itself was a ramshackle ghost of its former garishness, with walls peeling and debris still littering the floor. Clearly no one had gotten around to cleaning the place up since the Meteor Fall; a part of the ceiling had fallen in, leaving a gloomy web of concrete and steel overhead that resulted in a dirty puddle on the floor. The place smelled of sad disrepair; it wasn't that there was a puddle of vomit or anything unsightly like that, but it was just the general left-alone-ness that was a stark difference from Healin or the apartment. Dust had settled in the corners and places where people did not walk.

"Here it is," said the flunkie, sporting a bruise above his eye. The door was closed, but the two Turks heard soft wheezing and creaks, soft murmurs. They looked at each other; Reno shrugged, and Arien nodded. Guns were loaded, EMR charged. There wasn't much else they could prepare for.

Arien went in first, Reno a few steps behind. As soon as she stepped in, Corneo, completely unaware that Reno was behind her, grinned. "Ho! Cute gal!" he smirked. "Looking for employment, are we? Hmm? Well, I can give you the private kind-"

Reno stepped in, grinning. "Who's the cute gal?" He said. "Wait, did he mean you?" That was to Arien.

"Apparently," she deadpanned with a straight face. Well, she always had a straight face when she was on mission.

"Tsk. Cute, eh? Not really the word I'd use." He looked around, recalling the one time he had been in Corneo's den, remembering the vague details. "Close the door, kid."

The flunkie frantically shook his head.

_Bad choice, kiddo._

"Close the door," Reno repeated again, then saw the reaction and got agitated. "Look, squeak, you can close the door and _maybe_ get killed later, or you can keep the fucking door wide open and get killed now. Your choice."

The door slammed shut, leaving the Turks alone with the don.

Corneo's room hadn't changed. The walls were still festooned with polaroids and photographs, mostly of women, although Reno's eye caught what _had_ to be Chocobo Head cross-dressing and trying to pass off as a woman. He nearly laughed at that, but controlled himself, then grinned when he saw the blatant fear in Corneo's eyes. The man was literally about to piss his pants. His grin got wider when the fat man really _did_ piss his pants, but then he wrinkled his nose as the odour of urine hit his nostrils. Why couldn't anyone control the bladder? Was it impossible to interrogate without smelling piss?

Regardless, he could almost taste Corneo's fear, a sour taste that lingered slightly in his mouth, and he found the fear delicious. _This_ was his playing field, dealing the cards of fear and danger, not the bullshit of building a monument out of tin cans. Life was a game and he wanted to play it, instead of folding at every turn.

"So you remember me," Reno said, looking like a big bobcat about to pounce upon the prey. Arien had long learned that when Reno grinned more, that meant more trouble for the opponent, but did not pity the man. She pointed the Sig at the man's head.

"The counterfeit Hyper," she said, as Reno continued to grin. Evidently his smile was enough to keep Corneo in his place. "I need for it to stop going 'round. I also need the locations for the labs. All of them."

"Hohihi! Never!"

Arien sighed. She hated bargaining, but she did need the information, and simply putting a hole in the man's head won't get her any closer to finding out about the labs. Keeping the pistol trained on the man, she repeated again.

"Lab information for your life."

"My boys're gonna ruin you, gal. Or maybe I'll ruin you instead."

Reno didn't even so much as twitch, but the comment rankled him, and she knew it. It was barely visible, but his eyebrow went up a little for a fleeting nanosecond before his game face slipped back into place. Without a pause she spun, pulling the trigger as she moved, discharging the round at the door. There was a loud thud that followed as Arien's pistol pointed back at Corneo again.

"Is that supposed ta scare me?"

"No," she said. "I just don't like getting eavesdropped."

"She didn't mean to, but I do."

Reno was quick. He was lightning quick as his hand darted out, grabbed Corneo's, and yanked a finger in an impossible direction. There was a very clear _snap_ and Corneo howled in pain. Reno's eyes were cold as he stared down at the man. It wasn't anger at the slight, it was just his true game face coming on. Reno was entertaining the idea of killing Corneo and searching for the information afterwards. Arien hoped Corneo'd spill before that happened.

"Next time, I'm taking your eyeballs and I'm gonna make them into a keychain. Got it?"

"No! Not again! Never again! You bloody Turks, taking my stuff, stealing everything, you filthy bastards! Not this time! No! Rapp! My poor Rapp!" shouted the man in clear desperation. She put her thumb on the hammer and lowered it with a very audible _click_. She had no idea what Rapp was, but a quick glance at the redhead told her it wasn't important. This was.

"Alright, then. I guess your usefulness is over."

"Wait! Wait!"

Reno moved, but too late. Arien had stopped, just for a split moment, but that was enough for a fear-driven man, even if the man was obese and half-welded to a chair. With reflex driven from desperation, Corneo pressed the button in the palm of his hand. Reno caught the finger a second later, breaking it with a light _snap_. Corneo howled, but the trap was triggered, and the trapdoor opened, a giant, gaping maw that led down to the darkness.


	18. A Crawl Through the Dark

blob80 - Corneo still alive is actually canon. I know, I was shocked too... and then thought "Reno never did anything right in the game". Sorry my beloved redhead, but you really need to step up your game. That doesn't include screwing women. About the only thing he did successfully is drop the plate in the actual game, which is a big change from the elite Turk we see in BC. Then we see the comedy routine in AC. Seriously, what happened?

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - cliffhangers... well, Corneo was literally a cliffhanger. And then some. He's going to come back once more, and then maybe I'll have him croak it. Finally. I never was a fan of the dude. Reno seriously messed this one up, although technically he wasn't on duty... now to come and think of it, I think he's getting sloppy. We'll see just how sloppy he is in the remake, but hopefully no worse than what we see now.

Only two days late! Haha!

Chapter 17: A Crawl through the Dark

* * *

Reno and Arien fell, rather ungraciously, down the trapdoor. Reno landed first, and then hollered when Arien fell on top of him. "Ow!" He yelped when her rump landed in a very sensitive spot. "What the fuck are you trying to do, neuter me?!"

Arien moved off from him. From the sounds of it, she was dusting herself off. "No," she said, her voice oddly echoing, reverberating against the walls. "I can't control my free-fall. I'm not Sephiroth." He heard the sound of shoes against the gravel, realised that she must be standing up. He heard slapping noises; she must be dusting herself off. He inhaled then coughed, tasting the stale dust and mildew against his tongue and regretting the deep breath he just took. He really needed to start carrying something around to wrap around his face, but handkerchiefs were still a foreign concept for him. Whatever he deemed he didn't need at that moment, he inevitably lost it.

"Where the fuck are we?" The redhead muttered in the darkness. He heard a small _crack_, and saw a phosphorescent yellow light. Arien must have cracked her glow stick. All Turks carried them, just in case, attached to whatever they carried with them at all times. Reno had attached his to the baton, but Arien had attached her to a set of keys. He squinted, trying to adjust his vision, but his nightvision was weak at best, and he could barely make out the silhouette of the woman as she turned around. Arien won't have that problem, of course. Her nightvision amplified a single point of light to the point of daylight. She could probably see everything.

"We're in the tunnels," came the echoing reply. "This is the second time I'm here. Next time, I'm going to kill him."

Reno sniffed, smelled dirt, rocks, metals, a slight whiff of his girlfriend's clothes, and gunpowder amidst the overwhelming stench of mildew. It was rather unpleasant. "You've been here before?" he asked as his hand felt another hand, yanking him up. "I can't see shit." His hand landed in a puddle of muck with a viscous splash as he supported himself for a moment to get up. "Fuck. What the hell is this? Slime?"

"Well, at least we won't run out of water," came the reply that Reno took as sarcasm. He heard some rattling, then the glow stick moved into his hand. "The first time I went to muscle information out of Corneo," he heard her murmur, "he nearly wet his trousers and dropped me here. Of course, things look a lot different now."

"When was this?"

"I was twenty." He saw a vague shadow of her move her shoulders. "So you managed to make him into a puddle of flesh but didn't quite kill him. Good going."

He was not pleased with her jibe. "For your info, the _rocks_ failed to kill him."

"Oh. So you delegated your job to inanimate objects."

"Yeah. Better than wastin' bullets. I wasn't on duty, so if I actually killed the guy I'd have a shitload of paperwork to fill out." He grinned. "There's one thing I do regret, though. Well, two."

He heard her move her weight from one foot to another. "Oh?"

"First, you weren't strung up there. Two, why aren't women's uniforms skirts? If you guys were wearin' skirts then when Corneo flipped the switch I'd-ow!" He felt a sharp slap against his arm. "What the fuck was that for?"

"I'm not sure why you need to see my underwear," Arien said drily. "You've seen me in less. The tunnel's blocked."

With that, the Reno was brought back to the task at hand, and he tried to remember the tunnel schematics. There were three ways out of this place; east, west, and up. Up was definitely out, west would mean they'd be wandering around for days, and east… he turned his head, bringing the light source up, and saw that what Arien had said was true. Slabs of concrete had fallen, blocking the way, making the passage impassable. He could feel putrid wind coming through the cracks, but they weren't any bigger than a fist.

"Fuck." He reached into his pocket, tapped his phone on. Saw no bars. "Fuck." He put the phone away. "We are in deep shit."

"At least there won't be monsters," came the blithe reply that told Reno Arien was being sarcastic. He cracked the stick again, turning it off. Light would be a precious commodity soon, and he did not want to waste it. He sat down on the ground, heard Arien do the same.

"What can we do?" he heard her ask.

"Well, since we don't have anything to do here except get out, and since we don't have a fucking clue how to do that, we can fuck each other's brains out until one of us croaks it from exhaustion." He heard the silence. "I'm joking."

"With you, I never know," said his mate dryly. "We need to get out of here."

"I think I already know that."

They catalogued what they had. Not much; three pistols, one electromagnetic rod, a handful of CRSs, two pairs of gloves, three materias: contain attached to Reno's wrist, fullcure and poison to Arien's bracelet.

"If we had a bullet puller, we could have used that and the fire materia to make an explosive."

"Well, we could just use grav or earth to shatter the wall." Arien paused. "Grav might not be a good idea. We might fall with it."

"Can we stop falling for today? I think I've had my share."

He heard her laugh. "True. But the problem is, we don't have a bullet puller. Or grav or earth or fire."

"If we had transform, we can shrink ourselves. Walk through the cracks."

"We don't have that either."

"Right… shh."

Arien held her breath. Neither of them had auditory senses that surpassed Rude's, but Reno's was better in comparison than Arien's, and when he hushed her, she obeyed. They backed against the wall silently, moving in unison, as they heard a raspy male voice reverberate through the tunnels; without even a discussion they unlatched their safeties, muffling the sound against their holsters.

"Corneo's saying he dropped them down here," said the voice. "How the hell are we gonna find 'em?"

"No worries. This passage's blocked. It's a trap room, all-right." The footsteps echoed away from them, and Arien sighed softly in relief. Reno left the safety of the wall and stood in front of the fallen concrete again, touching the jagged edges, taking care not to cut his hand, tapping here and there, checking the nooks and crannies.

"I have an idea," whispered Reno when he returned back to where Arien was. He could almost see her raise an eyebrow; his 'ideas' were generally regarded as insane by the other members of the squad, and Arien was probably the foremost proponent in the 'Reno is actually crazy' theory. Regardless, she remained silent, a wordless consent for him to continue. So he did.

"I'll freeze that section," he said, gesturing toward the slabs of concrete that barred their way. "You shoot. See the middle slab? Shoot right in the middle, it should shatter."

"It might make the floor fall out."

"So?"

"It might fall on top of us."

"Oh." Reno paused. "Well, then we'd be paste. But stay here and we'd die anyway."

"True." She sighed. "All-right. Do it."

Arien backed to the bend, hiding herself around the corner. Reno activated the materia with a thought. This was going to exhaust him, all-right, but he couldn't just crash right after this. They still hadn't gotten what they had come for.

An appropriate trigger word, and the materia flared a pale white. His hand became ice cold, numbing the sensation as a white beam expanded to light up the entire tunnel. He narrowed his eyes as he directed the light at the concrete. Colder than liquid nitrogen, it'd only take a few moments for the entire section to freeze up. He waited, feeling the drain, feeling as if his brain was turning into a mass of bubbles.

The light died, but he stood, dazed. He started when he felt a yank on the sleeve, spun, and nearly crashed into Arien.

"Huh?"

"Come on!" She said urgently, then led him back to where she had been. He stood, dumb, as she aimed her Sig at the centre slab. He was slightly dazed, but started again when a sharp rap of the round being discharged cut through the air, followed by a small ping, and then such a tumultuous noise that he wondered if he was going to die. Dust rose and he coughed, tasting the grit in the mouth that coated him with its fine powder. He breathed in, and broke out in a fit of coughing.

"Reno!"

The pain came swiftly, enough to jolt him awake. A sharp slap across the face, and Reno snapped out of his daze and was back to being himself. He nodded thanks, then cracked his light. The faint glow gave him just enough to see the ground. Dust was still rising, but they needed to move before anyone came. He felt slaps on his back as he got the last of the dust out of his mouth, then wiped away the spittle on the shirt sleeve. Damn it, he really needed to invest in a handkerchief.

They picked their way around the fallen debris down the tunnel, wearing gloves as a precaution; Reno cursed Corneo once then twice then thrice before he lost count. "I swear," he murmured, "I'm gonna grind him into a paste then sell him as a hamburger. That asshole needs to die."

"Do that after we squeeze info out of him," the woman behind him reminded. Reno grinned at her. There wasn't much sense to this violence, but he had never needed much sense in his life to begin with. He had long ceased to ask the logic behind anything, instead relying on the power play to make it through. Words didn't solve problems all the time, but bullets did.

They walked for what seemed to be hours, picking their way through the clogged tunnels, slabs of concrete, and the general darkness. Reno felt that intangible darkness growing inside him, that dark feeling before it burst and turned him into a killing machine. No, he amended; that darkness was always there, the face of a mad psychopath that he had always kept on a tight leash, except when he needed to let go. A personal monster. The face of a mad harlequin, screaming for blood. He hadn't always been like this, but the ugliness of life had turned the little boy inside of him, trapped it in a crystal, and then had shattered it until the face was bloody and the mind broken. That was what happened to hoodlums who made it out alive. They ultimately came out broken somewhere somehow.

His sensitive nose noticed the stench lessening as they walked on. The exit must be near; sure enough, Arien noted that there was more light, although he couldn't tell right away. As they advanced the wind began to stir the debris, touching their hair, blowing fresher air onto their faces. He began to see the light at the end of the tunnel - faint, but still light - and grinned. He was going to return Corneo the favour of dropping him in this shitty hellhole by about a thousand. It wasn't that he hated the douchebag, but he didn't like the face of his failure trapping him underground, and he wasn't about to let that go. No freakin' way.

The light that hit his face as he climbed the ladder to get above ground was almost a signal for him to start his little game. _I__'ll have your ass backed up against the wall,_ he thought to himself as he reached for Arien's hand to help her up. _Then it__'s fun time, you fat ass. And I'll have your face eatin' shit. _

* * *

"The window," Reno decided. Arien looked at him dubiously, but attached the cam to a little piece of metal, which she then attached to the nozzle of her pistol.

"Are you sure?"

"The entryway's gonna be swarming with goons, and by the time we get to the fat sack of lard he's gonna notice and get away," Reno simply said. "Get in from the top, Arie. Trust me."

"All-right." She took the cam-loaded Baby Eagle from Reno's hand, then aimed the Sig and the Jericho at the building. She fired them both at the same time, the two cams flying through the air. They heard a soft _snick _and the whir as the ropes extended from their coil.

Reno yanked on the rope as hard as he could, then did the same with Arien's. He nodded.

"Okay, let's go."

They latched the ropes onto their belts, attached the descenders, then began to climb. Reno, built lightly and limber, ascended faster than Arien and was soon on top. He extended his hand to help her up the last stretch, then squatted, looking down.

"Where's the window?"

"That side," Arien said, pointing, as she released the cam. "We'd have to eyeball the rope length."

"I'm good at that."

She grinned, remembering the Costa del Sol practice operation. Reno had rappelled down, hitting the window and rolling into the building, all with just eyeballing and guesswork. It was a trick that Arien won't be able to pull off, but Reno could, which was probably why Reno was the ace.

"Just keep your hip high," Reno advised as they put the gloves on and threw the cams onto the ground. He looked at her dubious expression, and grinned at her.

"You'll be fine. You keep your hips raised plenty when I'm on top of ya."

"Not funny." She spun the Sig around her forefinger. "All-right. Let's do it."

After yanking on the cam again, Reno and Arien jumped off the edge of the building, adjusting the descending speed and swinging into the window. Reno reached the window first, keeping his legs extended like a battering ram, arms tucked around himself, and threw himself in through a window, tucking into a roll as he landed. Arien followed suit, nearly wrecking herself as she landed. By the time she got to her feet, Reno had barred the door and had his Jericho pointed at the terrified man as he readied his baton for a swing.

"Thanks for that side trip," Reno said sarcastically. "Can we have the info now? Unless you want me to turn you into a fuckin' jigsaw puzzle."

"Just keep him there," Arien said as she tapped on a key of a nearby computer. "I'll just download the data. Or take the hard drive."

"Good idea." He kept his pistol trained on Corneo as Arien took out a little data stick and plugged it into the computer. A black window filled the screen and a torrent of letters scrolled by. Arien kept tapping on the keys. After about a minute, she pulled out the stick and pocketed it as the screen blinked then went blank.

"All-right, let's go," she said, as she blew a kiss at the fat man. "I'm done."

Reno grinned, then swung the baton as hard as he could. There was a nasty crunch as he drove the baton into the man's shoulder. The collarbone broke with a light _crunch_.

"What was that for?" Arien asked as she checked her pistols. "Osteoporosis much?"

"We gotta keep him quiet for a while," he said as he ripped a piece of cloth from the filthy sheets and gagged him. Another whack in the other shoulder and Corneo moaned in pain, then collapsed into the bed.

"Window?" asked the woman.

"Window," Reno agreed. "See ya 'round, fattie. Might wanna eat better."

"Oh, that's rich, coming from you."

"What? I do eat-" Reno jumped down, so Arien didn't catch the last few words. She winked at the suffering don, then neared him.

"Don't do anything weird," she whispered, her voice sultry. "Or the building might go boom. We're watching."

She then jumped out the window. Reno was already moving away, and she landed in a crouch. A quick tug and a press of a button freed the cams from the building surface; they were low on supplies, and they couldn't exactly leave the CRSs there. She dusted her knees off, then looked at Reno, who was watching her. "What?"

"So we got that data, but what's gonna stop him from just making another lab?" he asked as he pulled his phone out. Arien smiled.

"I took care of that," she said sweetly. "I integrated a code into the operating system so we can monitor the system any time we want. And the beauty is, if they try to delete the code, it wipes the entire grid, except for itself. So it's stuck there."

"Smart."

"Yes. Cost a bit of a pile from Magda and Gareth, but it's useful. And it works on most systems." She didn't mention the warning she had given Corneo; Tseng knew about it, but Gareth and Magda had told her that they'd rather keep this illicit bit of hacking into the electric wiring quiet. She had a feeling that the two were selling the technology to gods only knew whom. She respected her coworkers' wishes; besides, if Gareth wanted to tell Reno, he would. They weren't exactly best friends, but as far as she knew they were friendly to each other.

He tapped a few numbers on the phone. "Yeah," he said. "It's done. Got the info… aw man, can we at least change?" He paused. "That fat ass dropped us into the tunnels, we're covered in crap. Is that how you want people to see us?" Another pause. "Trust me, Tseng, we're so covered in shit a chocobo rolling in dirt's cleaner than us. No, seriously. Right-o." He cut the connection without saying a farewell, as usual, then turned to Arien. "Next assignment."

"Already?!"

"Yup. Tseng's not in his best mood, said some shit about how we're 'already behind schedule'. I managed to squeeze out some time to get clean before headin' out." He snorted as he slid the phone back into the pocket. "Next time he can wallow in slime and see how he likes it. What time is it?"

"It's nearly six."

"Right. Head back, shower, new uniforms, head back out." He grinned. "Guess we'd better shower together. Might be faster."

"Doubt it."

"Aww, can't trust me?"

She blew away a strand of hair. "Not really," she said, but shrugged. "Well, I suppose if you keep your hands to yourself we'll be done that much faster. But we need to go back fast."

"True." He pressed a button on the motorcycle key, and the motorcycle, some few feet away, sprang to life like a pet awaiting its master. "We might want to eat too, before heading out. I'm starvin'."

"Aren't you always?" She sighed as she climbed onto the motorcycle behind him. "How did you get muck on your back?"

"I landed on my ass. Then you landed on my-"

"I get it, I get it," she said hastily. "I'm going to have to do serious washing with this one." Their suits were washable, although it wasn't recommended. Before their lives went to pieces Arien had sent her suits to dry-cleaning, but such luxuries weren't so readily available nowadays. The suits were wrinkle-resistant and didn't absorb blood, which was a bonus, but right now it was so covered in slime and dust and other filth that she seriously considered throwing the whole thing away before reminding herself that every scrap of material was a commodity now. No more casually throwing anything away. Which was why Tseng had forbidden Reno and Rude to use their pistols unless they were well within their ranges. They were much more likely to miss than Arien, Tseng, or Elena. And even bullets were to be conserved.

_What else is there? What was the saying? Watch your back, shoot straight, conserve ammo and never cut a deal with a dragon? _

Well, watching one's back was something that they did without being prompted, shooting straight was a given, they were already conserving ammunition and there were no dragons in the world, not the kind mentioned in fairy tales anyway. So why were they in such tight places?

_I take it back. What you can do in this town is hold on and pray, and not much else. And if all else fails, kill it before it kills you._

Such was the philosophy in Midgar, as dismal as it was, and it appeared The Edge wasn't free from such dogmas. She picked a clean spot on Reno's back and laid her cheek against it, wondering when all the stuff they'd done would come back, and if what they were going through was even a prelude.


	19. Hot Stripper Thief Action!

blob80 - I'm dying to see the scene where Reno gives Elena a lecture in Wutai. I want to know what kind of expression he has on his face (I also want to see him step on Corneo's foot, but that's just for personal pleasure).

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - Reno and Arien have their "aww" moments, but most of the time I want to wring their heads. I think they're so against being straight with each other that they cause each other more confusion than necessary. But I'm more comfortable with those kind of relationships, I suppose.

Still writing! Still trudging! Can't wait to throw Evan in the arc in earnest.

Chapter 18: Hot Stripper Thief Action!

* * *

Reno, unfortunately, was not exactly the happiest man in the world when Arien loaded up the data stick and found out where the lab was. And he made that clearly known. The shower was more like a lick and a promise to get cleaner later, and the meal was so slapdash it would have been not much more than a snack had they the luxury of time, but it wasn't either of them that Reno found particularly distasteful. No. It was the location of the next assignment that sent him groaning.

"What?" Arien asked as she slid her left foot into the trousers. There was something titillating about a slender woman in a pantyhose, Reno decided absently, trying not to think about the location. Maybe it was the sheen the textile gave to the shapely leg. She stuck her other foot in, then pulled the trousers up, doing the zipper and the hook and the button. The belt threaded its way around her waist, and she stuck her hip forward as she did the buckle. She hadn't donned her holsters yet, and the pistols were on the night table, the Glock on top of the Sig. The white shirt was crisp, stainless, and the tie was around her neck, undone. She looked like a present, half-unwrapped. Reno was already dressed; he had significantly less to do than the woman. For one thing he had no idea where his tie was, and for the second, he never tucked his shirt in. All he needed to wear now was his jacket, which was thrown haphazardly onto the bed.

"Why is it that these drug labs are always behind hooker dens? Seriously, why?"

"It's a good front," she noted. "There are so many back rooms no one'd bother to feel curious about a big partition that no one's ever been in."

"Yeah, but you know what this means? More shower."

"Why?"

"Because I don't wanna go to bed with guys' juices on me, that's why."

The woman looked disgusted as she did her tie. "Thanks," was her caustic response as she pulled the holster on. "I hate you sometimes."

"For what? Bringing up the fact of life? Deal with it, Arie. Wherever there are women wearin' nothin' but patsies and a thong, there's gonna be man juice."

"I really hate you right now." And out she went.

Reno grinned and yelled after her. "What? You've had plenty of mi-" He laughed when he heard no response, then grabbed his jacket and went after her. They needed to get this done before the next morning, and the stripper bar wasn't Violetta's. They'd need to find a way to get access to the back rooms. Bribery usually worked, but of course, Reno had other ideas, as Arien found out soon enough.

They had gone through the stripper floor; the workers and the customers alike gave them a wide berth, not wanting to anger two people in what could only be the Turk blue, that distinct blue that looked black in daylight but turned into a darker shade of navy during the night. It was as if a cold blast of wind had stormed through the bar, leaving brief moments of silence that would be shattered by the heavy thrum of music a moment later. A few men eyed Arien but said nothing; the way she was built, the way she walked told them she was armed and she was not here for a job interview, but rather on a job. And they weren't willing to test their mettle out against a Turk, even if the said Turk looked like a good hit would knock her out. They had heard of the Turk next to her, and despite him looking almost anorexic and anaemic, they'd heard stories. The really bad ones.

The problem was the bouncer. Bouncers usually had combat experience, and some of them were itching to test their skills and their muscles out. The Turks, with their uniforms, made a distinct target for that particular wrestling match. In truth, Reno probably could have taken the guy out in about four moves - he wasn't as good as Rude when it came to hand-to-hand - but they didn't want to waste their time. So Reno decided to take the easy way out.

He had simply threatened the bouncer with the baton against his throat and his Jericho against his temple. A look at Reno was enough to tell the bouncer that he wouldn't even think about killing him, he'd just do it as soon as the word "no" came out of his mouth.

_This guy__'s a goner,_ the bouncer thought, fear lacing through his brain. _He popped a long time ago_.

The bouncer opened the door before Reno pulled the trigger.

"Good choice," Reno commented as he followed after Arien through the doorway. If the bouncer wondered about a slender woman going in first, he made no comment. It might have been Reno's presence, or it might have been Arien undoing the safety of her Sig. Either way, the bouncer was silent as they disappeared down the corridor.

"Huh," Arien said as she reached the end of the corridor, "it's not actually _in_ the bar."

"What?"

"It's beyond this door," she said, pointing at the metaplas door that stood in front of her. She twisted the doorknob. "And it's locked."

"Hang on." He stepped forward, swung his baton and brought it down on the knob. The knob shattered as Reno kicked the door open. "Yeah, problem solved."

"So much for subtlety," she said with a smile. "Care to do the other door as well?"

"Tell you what," said Reno. "You shoot out the door, I'll crash in."

"Good idea. Count of three?"

"Three."

"One, two, three." Arien pulled the trigger as Reno ran toward the door and kicked it in. There was a cloud of dust, and a corridor that ran left and right. No one was there, not a goon or a lab technician or just a courier. A door stood in front of them, unmarked.

"Maybe we should pick it," Arien said, touching the tools from her belt. Reno groaned.

"Can't we just knock the door down?"

"Too loud." She frowned. "I just need an access to a computer."

"We did come for info," Reno agreed. "Alright. Pick."

Arien pulled what looked like a folding knife from her belt. Reno took it, flipped one of the 'blades' open, which turned out to be a thin metal prong with a bent tip. He got to his knees and began to work, jiggling the tumblers, listening for the catches. It was an old method, and time-consuming for those who weren't used to lock-picking, but Reno had been picking locks for years.

"Got it," he whispered after he heard the final tumbler get into place. He pulled his Jericho out, then twisted the doorknob.

"Let's hope the door doesn't squeak," he said, turning.

"What?"

"Do you have lube?"

She stared. "Do I look like I have lubricant?"

"Then let's hope the door doesn't squeak." He pressed the door against the hinge, then pushed. He peeked, then turned his head.

"It's a fuckin' big room. We need to sneak."

She peeked over his head. The room was dark.

"Anyone there?"

"Hold on." She squinted, trying to see in the gloomy darkness, then she noticed a faint light moving ahead. Reno had to crouch lower to let Arien see, who was bending over and pressing her left eye to the tiny crack. "I see… three guards. They're going around the perimeter," she whispered after a few moments. "They're just going around the room, but I don't think they're leaving."

"Lovely. Wish I'd brought a nightscope."

"We'll have to make do. It's not that dark inside, and the guards have flashlights. You can see them coming nearer."

"Gotcha."

Arien was not good at sneaking. Nonetheless, she followed, Reno going in first; he was fast, flitting from shadow to shadow, dashing from one place to another. She moved, not as quickly perhaps, but she somehow managed to avoid being seen or heard. Miracle of miracles, for she wasn't the one to sneak so close to the target. She wasn't the type to do such assignments without extensive planning. But they needed to do this tonight, and she didn't have enough time to plan anything. In times like these, Reno's almost animalistic instinct far outperformed Arien's meticulous planning, a fact that she had come to accept, if she didn't particularly enjoy it being displayed under her nose.

They crossed the large hall, where evidently most of the manufacturing was taking place, taking care of their footsteps so that they would not echo on the concrete, darting behind the shelves and the desks. Surprisingly - or not so surprisingly - no one noticed the two moving figures. It was slow going - they had to watch out for the random clutter on the floor, and the darkness wasn't helping Reno at all - but it was better than bringing down the house on their heads. There were errant glass beakers, long coils of hoses, pipettes and other paraphernalia littering the floor. Taking the shoes off was out of question, for Reno had seen shards of glass in some places. Leaving a bloody footprint wasn't exactly on the Turks manual for good sneaking.

They kept to the wall, narrowly avoiding a head-on encounter with one of the guards along the way, who had turned around just in time for the two escape detection. The moonlight streamed through the windows and the Turks had some difficulty avoiding the beams, and they sighed in relief when they got to the other side. Reno looked ahead, gestured to get weapons ready. Arien nodded.

Nothing happened as they slid through the door. It might have been that Reno had closed the door on a paper napkin that he had filched along the way, muffling the latch as the door closed; maybe the guards were just too lazy to notice that anything was amiss. Either way, they slid out. Arien found a door with the inscription 'OFFICE' down the hall, pointed at it.

"Well, that's nice of them to label it," Reno said wryly. "Reckon it's in there?"

"If it's not, we'd have to look around."

"Fingers crossed…" He took a look at the lock, which wasn't pickable by orthodox methods, and got out a jammer. He set the electronic contraption onto the virtual keypad, which close-circuited the lock. "Useful," he noted.

"Where did you get that?" She asked curiously.

"I got it from, ah, Scarlet's lab."

"She gave it to you?"

"'Course not. I _borrowed_ it." Emphasis on the word 'borrowed', which told Arien exactly what Reno had done; he'd stolen it. Well, he did have a habit of stealing whatever that struck his whimsy from Scarlet's developmental labs. He had nearly electrocuted himself once and had come back to the Turks' floor with a severe burn on his fingers that Tseng had refused to waste a healing spell on.

The office was small, smaller than their own back in the Shinra Tower. There was an outdated computer sitting on a desk, and a plastic bangle sitting next to the keyboard. "The manager's a woman," Arien noted she sat down in the chair, tugging a pair of gloves on. Reno, who was using another paper napkin to muffle the noise as the door closed, frowned.

"That fat douchebag hired a woman?"

"What's wrong with hiring women?"

"Nothin', but you know Corneo doesn't view ladies as nothing more than fucktoys." He winced. "Man, I'd hate to be a girl in his employment. Shiva only knows what sort of sick stuff he's into, and he ain't easy on the eyes."

Arien slid a data stick into the port, searching her pocket for another one to upload the data on. She jiggled the mouse, the monitor flaring into a ghostly life. The computer was locked, but the hacking program kicked in from the first data stick, and a blur of white letters began to flood the screen. "This is going to take a minute," she whispered.

"I can use a minute," Reno whispered back, leaning onto the door. "Man, that screen's bright."

"I'll lower the brightness." He heard a few clicks, and the screen dimmed. "I wonder how she ended up here?"

"Who cares? I can guarantee she ain't no straight-laced office girl. If she's managing this place, then she met with Corneo. That means she's dirt."

Arien did not respond; the hacking program had overridden the lock, and she was in. A quick tap on the keyboard and the data transfer began, and the time read-out made her sigh. The data transfer to the stick was slow-going. Clearly the computer didn't have the latest ports; a quick check of the computer specifications told her that yes, her assumptions were correct. So much for cheap technology. If they didn't help trivial things like data transfer go faster, what was the point?

"Reno."

"Hm?"

"We need to stop at the actual development lab," she whispered as she moved the mouse. "The actual recipe's not here."

"Is it in the main room?"

"Probably not. That's an assembly line."

"Where is that lab?"

"Down the hall. Two doors down. I have the security code."

"Good girl." There was something sexual about the way he called her that, but she didn't dwell on it. She merely memorised the security code, then waited for the transfer to finish, which took fifteen minutes. If it had been on the Shinra network it would have taken five, tops, even with the Turks' outdated operating systems. They were perpetually short on budget. That hadn't changed, but she reminisced for a moment and silently moped that Rufus could have treated them a little better.

Ejecting the two data sticks, she stood up. A quick click and she logged out, leaving no trace that the security had been compromised. After restoring the monitor to its original brightness, she mentally ran a check to see if she' left any clues behind. Nope. "Done," she whispered.

Reno took a deep breath, then exhaled in exasperation. "We grab the recipe, and then we go home," he declared. "I'm not staying in this stinkin' shithole all night. I gotta sleep."

"Ditto." She went out first. No one in the corridor; her nightvision allowed her to see the door numbers, and sure enough, two doors down the entrance was locked with one of the old style keypads. She tapped the number in, and she heard a quiet _click_. She opened the door, letting Reno in first.

Labs were all the same: sterile, cold, smelling of metal and antiseptic and rubbing alcohol. This one was no exception. She loaded the hacking program to one of the computers again, and ran a quick search to find the recipe. It wasn't that complicated, she noted, but there was an odd mention of "Z-131". What the heck was that?

"Reno, do you know what this is?" She asked, pointing at the screen she had dimmed. He came over, then shook his head.

"No. Maybe it's something in this lab?"

She left the desk, and began checking the shelves. The quantity they stocked had to be fairly large, so it won't be in one of the tiny vials. Common sense told her that something heavy would naturally be closer to the floor, so she started at the bottom first. She was working on the third shelf when she found a large jar with the label Z-131. She squinted, using the faint glow of the monitor to read the description below. She read it, disbelieved her own eyes, read it again. Then she wished she was hallucinating.

"Oh my god." She paled, then signalled Reno to come and see it. Seeing it, he pinched the bridge of his nose, looking disgusted.

"Zolokalter's dried throw-up? _That__'s_ what they're cutting Hyper with?" He murmured. "Holy crap."

"No wonder people've been dying of cardiac arrests," she whispered. "It's literally slowing their hearts to a stop. What do we do?"

"We tell Tseng," he said, unscrewing the cap and scooping some out into a tiny empty vial. He blew away the powder that fell onto the desk, then pocketed the tiny bottle. "Got shipment schedule, lab location, ingredient list - why would they keep that lying around? - and this. Anything else?"

Arien shook her head.

The exit was without incident - there was a back door - but they left with a headache and the knowledge that this incident wasn't quite over. Neither of them was quite sure how Tseng would react, but Reno could imagine Rufus silently furious. He was like a little boy in that sense - he didn't exactly take good care of his 'toys', but if someone else messed with them, his anger erupted in its white hot silence.

Reno clutched at his head. He felt a headache, but he wasn't sure if it was because of the humidity or the mess that just got worse.


	20. Hello, Stranger

Many, **many** thanks to everyone who patiently waited for this dratted chapter to be posted. Classes are killing me. Actually, correction: integrals are killing me. I hate integrals.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - Enter Kyrie and Evan! We finally start the plot from _Turks: The Kids are Alright_ rolling. It was fun writing this chapter, and the next one was even more fun. We get to see the scene a little from Reno and Rude's point of view, and my spin on some of the unexplained tidbits.

blob80 - The title actually came from a mission in the computer game _Vampire the Masquerade: Bloodlines_, now that I think about it. I didn't notice it, but it must have stuck in my head. Writing Reno is... tricky. I can't make him too much of a b stard, and I can't make him too much of a selfless sop. He needs just the right amount of zing.

Guest - The plots unfold! Reno's beginning to round out from the cold assassin we meet in the game and the comedy in AC. I always wondered why a killer would bother to save kids, so I'm trying to flesh him out to explain that particular part. Rude I can see why, but Reno...?

Again, so sorry for the very delayed update. I hit a writer's block, too. That didn't help. If you are not from the US and are wondering what Tseng and Elena are talking about, google "peeps marshmallows". I hate them almost as much as candy canes during Christmas.

Chapter 19: Hello, Stranger

* * *

"So," said Reno the following Friday, "the antidote's being developed, and I've actually met some peeps thanking us. Isn't that awesome?"

"Reno," said Tseng in a tired voice, "try to speak properly in front of the president, would you? Peeps are those marshmallows that are have avian caricature."

"Or bunnies," Elena chimed in. "Don't forget the bunnies."

It was late in the afternoon, the hour when the last remaining rays of the golden light would stream through the windows. Everyone was there, even Tseng, and they were sitting around a round table, doing the bi-weekly meeting. Elena was casting furtive glances at Tseng, making Reno silently wish that she'd just fuck him and get over with it; Rude was uncharacteristically fidgeting; Arien was busy typing notes, and Tseng was trying to keep the stack of papers straight. Rufus sat, hands steepled, his handsome face as expressionless as ever. There were usually two expressions on Rufus Shinra: smug or nothing.

"And how is the recruitment going?" the president asked.

"Fairly well. Most of Class AA are willing to return," Arien said.

"Seriously?"

She shrugged at the redhead. "Most of them are stuck at dead-end jobs that really don't recognise their talents, Reno. Axil's doing construction work at the very edge of the town. Would you be happy doing bouncer work?"

"Good point." He made a face. "Construction work? Seriously?"

"He grinned and said he still gets to blow things up, but I'm sure we can use his talents better. Gareth and Magda are doing computer maintenance."

"That's low."

"Anything else?" Rufus continued, as if he had not heard the conversation between his subordinates.

"Er, no sir."

"Actually-"

Rude elbowed Reno in the ribs, but it was too late. His mouth always got the better of him, and Elena audibly sighed. They all knew what Reno was going to say, and they really didn't think it would be a good idea. Rufus had a history of mishaps with siblings, and most of them remembered what had happened. The incident with Lazard was not something any of them wished to repeat. Granted, it was not Rufus' fault, but it ultimately turned out that the Turks would have to wipe up the resulting mess, and despite all of them liking the work they did most of the time, the blond bastard - in a very literal sense - had been more than enough to make them wary of any illegitimate offspring the former president had left behind.

"What is it, Reno?"

Too late! Rufus's interest had been piqued, and he was almost dictatorial in his rule. The four other Turks glanced at each other while Reno decidedly ignored Tseng's sibilant sigh. "You know the kid I was talking about?" he started.

Rufus nodded, patiently waiting for Reno to get to the point.

"And I ain't sure, but I still think he's related to you, prez. He looks really close. Right, Rude?"

Rude remained silent. But then, he was always silent.

"And see, I was wondering if it might be a good idea for him to come here, have a chat ya know, just in case-"

"I'm making coffee," said Arien. "Anyone want some?"

"Thanks for interrupting," said the redhead, while Tseng took a quick head count and raised his hand with his fingers extended, signalling to her that everyone wanted coffee. She nodded and poured water into the kettle, then flipped the switch on. She looked even paler than normal under the golden light, but then again, so did Reno. They were creatures of the night, not particularly suited to the daytime, and it showed.

"Bring him in, then," Rufus was saying. "I'll meet him."

"Seriously?" Elena and Arien blurted out together, then mirrored each other's faces as they inadvertently looked askance. Rufus frowned.

"It is better to know than not know," he intoned. "And better to know the risk than go in blind." He then turned the chair away, signalling them that the conversation was over.

Over?

It definitely was not over as they left the room, leaving the coffee in the carafe, forgotten. As soon as they were out of earshot, Elena got up to Reno and demanded to know what was going on, while Rude and Arien looked at each other. Unlike Elena, the other four Turks knew the mess Lazard had left behind. While they all doubted the incident would repeat itself, it really wasn't something they were willing to risk. It had been a mess. And they were severely undermanned.

"Elena, stop," Arien finally said, seeing that Rude was mute as usual and Tseng was not going to step in. "You don't know what happened."

"Don't know? What do you mean, you don't know?! It's better that no known relatives remain, Agent DeVir! It's less complications, less considerations, less hassle-" Elena let go of Reno's shirt collar and he stepped away, massaging his neck. After rubbing the neckline twice, he shook his head.

"You really have no idea, 'Laney. Trust me, if there are Rufus' bros runnin' around, it's better we know." He glanced at Arien, who was decidedly looking away. Well, no wonder; the entire incident, codenamed Crisis C, had left a mess behind that had prematurely ended Arien's academic career and had launched her into the one of espionage. He had a feeling she still had grudges about it, and no wonder; introverted, meticulous, and rather physically lazy, Arien would have been better off in a laboratory than in the field. She did fine - in fact, better than fine in many situations - but that was purely because of her discipline, not because she liked it.

Discipline. He thought for a moment, found the word distasteful. He was the very antithesis of it, and Arien was almost the embodiment. He questioned how they ever had worked out. Wouldn't opposites hate each other?

"No!" Elena said harshly. "I still insist-"

"Should we tell her about Lazard?" Arien murmured under her breath to Rude. He shook his head. She stood up.

"Well, I'm leaving," she said. "I'm going to the ranges. Later."

Reno and Rude nodded; the redhead raised his hand in acknowledgement, then walked on. They would have to return to the Edge to continue their construction supervision. Elena followed Arien to the back of the cabin, while Tseng disappeared into the designated office space.

The back of the cabin, secluded away from the public view and facing the face of the cliffs, was the temporary training ground for the Turks. Compared to what they had back in the Tower, this was a far cruder version of it with less technology; the holographic generators weren't available, of course, so there weren't any simulated situations they could train for. Instead, they mostly used it for sparring and shooting. There were dummies erected to the side, and perpendicular to the direction the dummies faced were targets that a shooter could practise on. It was in front of the target that Arien had positioned herself now, feet spaced.

Elena had never seen Arien shoot properly before; despite the action and the conflicts they had been in, Arien had been mostly out of the squad while Elena had been active. She had heard tidbits from the rest of the group and her acquaintances that had formerly worked at the Shinra Company, of course, but she had never seen it. Truth be told, she discounted the reputation a little; after all, her sister had been the top of her class for firearm handling and her father, the firearms instructor at the Shinra Military Academy, had given such praise for Delara's skills. Elena had chosen martial arts as her focus during her schooldays just so that she would not have to compare with her elder sibling. All in all, she guessed that Arien might be good, but not _that_ good. After all, she had never heard her father talk about her.

What she had forgotten was that it was very different to shoot in practice and to shoot in action, and that mako-enhanced bodies were entirely on another level. And she was aware of it now, as Arien casually distanced some hundred metres away from the target. A regular handgun range was about fifty metres or so, and Reno could only hit the target thrice out of five at that distance. But Arien had taken at least double that.

"Can you shoot that far?" she asked, wondering. Arien turned.

"Hundred metres is about my limit for pistols," she said. "For rifles, it depends. For a sniper rifle, I can aim about three, four kilometres?"

Before mako technology came into being, the world record had been in the range of a kilometre or two.

Seeing that Elena was done with her question, Arien faced forward again. A flip of her jacket and her Sig was out, and with a fluid motion she aimed and pulled the trigger. A sharp noise reverberated off the cliff as the bullet was discharged. She moved her hand and aimed at the target left to her, then the one right to her, in rapid percussive succession. Then she holstered.

Elena got up from her seat on a jutting rock and neared the targets to check. Much to her dismay - or surprise, perhaps - the Wutaian had hit her mark without flaw.

_So they weren__'t exaggerating._

Elena knew that Arien's codename had been Gunslinger. She knew that one of the two deciding factors for Arien to be selected for the squad was her marksmanship. She had seen the results: physicals were average, her intelligence was above average but nowhere close the genius range, her psych evaluation profiled that she stuck to the rules like glue… but looking at her marksmanship now, Elena understood why Tseng had chosen her from the pool of candidates. That, and her planning skills. It had become a running jinx that if Arien planned it and Reno was on the team, they'd make it back alive. At least, the assignments carried out so far had turned out so.

"Where did you learn how to shoot?" Elena asked, picking at her cuticle on her left thumb.

"Your father, actually." That made Elena pause and look up. "I was lazy and I didn't want to run around, so martial arts was out. Firearms involved the least exertion. And well" - Arien whipped her Glock out and shot at the targets with her left hand - "I've been in a few gunfights during my Intelligence days. You either get better or get killed in those. I was lucky."

"Did the others-"

"You mean, Siva, Felicita? No. They weren't field agents, remember? I was the only female with that designation." She holstered the Glock. "I worked with the boys. Actually, now to come and think of it, I still work with boys. Siva's a crapshoot, Felicita's not much better. They mostly did talking. I mostly waved my guns around and threatened people to spill information."

_Bang, _said the Sig as it left the holster and spat out another bullet. Elena nodded. Being in the squad meant you worked mostly with males. Despite the growing population of women in the military and field work, the Turks were still fairly male-dominated, especially after the Zirconiade incident. The assignments didn't allow them the luxury to behave as women; gone were the cute dresses and pretty make-up, replaced by a drab dark suit and a mien that was so sharp it could cut through water. Elena sighed, despairing her chance of ever getting Tseng's attention, not realising Arien's amused glance as she picked at her cuticles.

* * *

Reno was in a heated argument with one of the workers when he saw a girl running at him. Or, technically, toward the centre of the square. He rectified that thought when he saw the girl veer off the initial course and run toward him. He was even more baffled when the girl nearly shouted at the top of her lungs for a phone.

"Do you have a phone?!" She screamed her question. She had a wild look of an animal in panic. Reno frowned, then asked the most natural question that crossed his mind:

"Who the hell are you?!"

"We need a doctor! Doctor Drake! Please, Evan, Evan's passed out!"

"Huh?" The redhead looked puzzled.

"You guys beat him up! It's your fault! He's passed out because you punched him!"

So Kyrie was baffled when Reno gave him a blank look. "Who the fuck is Evan?" Then the anger mounted, rage bubbling over at the Turks' feigned ignorance, their 'we like people!' demeanour. The rage bubbled over until it came out of her mouth in heated words.

"You guys punched him!" She screeched. "You guys thought he was Fabio and you guys punched him, you bastards."

Recognition flashed across the redhead's face. If she had the luxury of checking him out, she would have been dimly interested in the redhead despite the clear 'I'm dangerous' aura that he exuded. The amused eyes, aquamarine in colour, the grinning mouth, the twin red marks on the cheeks, the flaming red hair. But Kyrie did not have that luxury.

"It's you guys' fault! Take responsibility!"

By this time, the redhead's buddy was behind him, like a menacing shadow to the red flame. Reno sighed; he knew that if the girl took off, he could easily overtake her and get the phone back. He pulled the sleek black gadget out from the pocket, then began dialling.

"It's gonna be a different doc," the redhead said. "But he's good. That okay?" He didn't wait for her agreement, but instead began to walk. "Hey, you comin'?"

"What? Are we gonna leave your boyfriend alone?" he asked, then continued to walk as he talked into the phone. "Yeah. We have a patient. Can you come over? Yeah, sure, we'll pay."

"Wait, you know where he is?"

"Sure," he said as he moved his head away from the phone. "And you run a detective agency, kinda bullshit." He went back to the phone. "Yeah. It's four-three twenty-third street. Thanks. Gotcha." He slid the phone back into the pocket.

The three walked in silence. The physician was already there when they arrived, and gave the unsatisfying verdict that Evan - that was his name - was just asleep, and that there would be no point dispensing medication. After moving the body to the bed, Reno slapped his hands against the knees, then looked down at the girl.

_She__'s… innocent._

Her eyes were infinitely curious, innocently curious; so different from the eyes he had seen back in Shinra, filled with doubt, regret, darkness. She was just a girl, unrelated to all the crap that they had to take care of. Was it right to get these kids involved?

_Not my decision._

Reno shrugged doubt off with that last thought. He sat down next to Rude on the sofa; the spring creaked as he settled his weight onto the ratty fabric. "Listen," he said. The girl looked up, her face showing worry. "After that kid wakes up, you guys are gonna come with us."

Kyrie looked at the two; they looked nice, and Reno was grinning, the sort of a grin that showed no animosity. Rude looked a bit scary, but Reno looked even friendly. And he truly could look friendly, like a playful cat, wanting to play.

But this man was a killer. The hands were killer's hands; and Kyrie knew, when she looked into his eyes, that this man had fought constantly, fought for years, without pause, without hesitation. This man had fought and had killed without pause.

This man was dangerous.

There were two choices. She could refuse - and then only a higher power would know what they'd do - or she could agree, and figure out what to do along the way. If it had been someone with more belief in discipline and plans, she would have picked the former. But Kyrie wasn't, she was used to going with the flow, so she picked the latter. Besides, when Evan woke up, he might know what to do.

"All-right," she said. "If Evan can come with me."

"No worries, that's what we planned to begin with." Reno got up. "Rude, lemme know when the kid wakes up. I'll be at the-" he made a gesture with his right hand. And then he walked out the door, whistling.

An awkward silence filled the room after Reno left. Kyrie waited in silence, feeling awkward; she had been rarely silent these days, and it felt unnatural to her. But Rude did not talk, and there was nothing to talk about, and Kyrie was scared of him.

Evan Townsend woke up thirty minutes later, but for Kyrie it felt longer than that; it felt like half a day had gone by. Rude silently waited for Kyrie to break the news.

The man was silent. He was always silent.


	21. A Boy in the Mirror

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - We're moving along with Evan/Kyrie plot. I find myself filling in for a lot of Reno's musings, since we aren't privy to that information for this part of the plot. It's fun. I found it interesting that despite what he told Elena in Wutai, he's probably the one who's lost the line between work and life the most.

Bloodwitch Raven - He is, but he's also killed people, and these kids haven't. They're from the slums, but even in the slums the Turks were sort of a boogeyman. I've tried to cut down on clown-ish goof from the two Turks and give them more of the original FF7 'I'm an assassin' sort of a spin. At least for now.

Driving through the badlands! Fun fun. Most of the conversations are from the novel, translated almost verbatim. Reno's hard to translate. His vernacular's very colloquial.

Chapter 20: A Boy in the Mirror

* * *

When Rude led the two children to the vehicle, Reno was already in the driver's seat. It wasn't the beaten up SUV or the motorcycle but the old tatty pick-up truck that Reno had procured by some obscure means some time ago. The seats' springs had long deteriorated, so no one liked using it, especially driving through the badlands. But lending Elena the motorcycle was out, and she needed to go back to keep watch on Slop - the thief who had tried to steal the newest batch of abidazole - so the men had taken the pick-up truck. The navy colour had turned bald in some patches, showing the silver underneath.

"You took your sweet time," Reno said as he turned the key in the ignition. The vehicle squeaked in protest as it was forced to wake from its slumber.

"We had a problem."

Reno sighed, then turned, seeing the girl looking aggressively defiant. Definitely an amateur; a professional would try to conceal expressions to stop giving signs away when they needed to attack. "I won't do a thing, girlie," he said, feeling a slight pang of regret. This was the childhood and the youth that had been taken away from them; Reno had been the member of the squad when he was around the girl's age, Arien was trying to survive her second year in the Intelligence, Rude was in the military and Elena was training. And Tseng… who knew what Tseng did in the past? As for Rufus, he was in the midst of the chicanery and the turmoil that was just part of the normal operations for the company his father had made.

Yup. They were definitely a bunch of screw-ups.

"We're just gonna go for a drive," Reno continued. "That's all."

"Then tell me where we're going."

Reno turned the wheel, getting onto one of the main avenues of the town. The night was deepening, but there were people here and there, trying to finish the day's business and go home. So different from Midgar, where people never slept; Evan remembered his childhood, with all its noises and the raucous buzz of a metropolis, and found the quiet oddly disconcerting.

"Oh yeah, I didn't tell you did I?" said the redhead. His voice had a slightly nasal tone that was faintly irritating to Kyrie. "We're going to this place called Healin. You know, the place where your buddy Fabio tried to steal out of."

She looked at Reno, or at least, in his direction. She had a cute face, he decided, but with none of the finesse or the cold artistry that Arien's face had; then he realised that it wasn't really her features that gave her that cold elegance, but rather her expression, or the lack thereof. This girl was too open and too generous with her expressions. Everything was right there, on her face, for the world to see.

And right now, she looked suspicious and angry.

"Don't make a face like that, doll. You'll ruin your pretty face."

"Are you going to do more to us? Haven't you done enough?"

_Now where did I hear that before?_ He wondered. Oh, right. Tifa Lockheart had talked like that when he had run into her when he was dropping the Sector 7 Plate.

"Nah, I won't do that." He turned the wheel. "Fabio and Slop wiped after their own asses, and that was the end."

"How vulgar."

Reno grinned a little; he'd been called worse, and he was well aware of his lack of manners. Well, no; he could eat with his mouth closed, but there was something that was obsessively compulsive that made him come to work without a tie and to swear excessively. Rebellion against childhood, Arien would say; rebellion against his father, who, even from beyond the grave, was scrutinising him and disapproving him. His mood soured slightly at that thought.

"Speaking of, kid." He glanced at the blond boy from the rear-view mirror. "Sorry about that time. We kinda thought you were Fabio."

The boy looked away.

"But I liked that you didn't spill the beans about your buddies' names. Even though you're a big wimp."

Evan grimaced.

"Hey, was it the Turks who made Fabio go through all that?"

"Yeah. Sorta misunderstanding, you know. Elena-" Reno stopped, feeling Rude jab his elbow into his rib. The truck rebounded on a boulder; no longer were there houses and apartments, but just a silent darkness and the rattle of the vehicle. The only source of light was the steady beam of the headlight; there was a ear-piercing wail somewhere in the distance.

The badlands.

The badlands were generally without people; empty was the word Reno often associated the area with. Even during the daytime it was slightly darker, probably because the only source of light was the sun and there were jutting boulders that cast long shadows onto the ground.

"Some Turks can't get used to change that well," Reno finished the sentence lamely.

"How many Turks are there?" asked the girl.

"That's Shinra Company's biggest secret. Can't tell ya."

"So it's three."

Reno shrugged. "Can't tell ya."

"It's bingo, isn't it?"

It wasn't, but Reno wasn't really in the mood to say anything about it. "We'll say it's three, then." He turned his body to look at Evan, who was wedged in the back. "So, Evan. Your mum's name?"

For some reason, the boy answered truthfully. "Anette. Anette Townsend. Hey, can you turn forward? I think we've turned a lot."

"Oh yeah." He faced forward again. "Well, it's not like there're roads here. No problem if we veer off course a lil' bit." But he righted the position again, turning to the left. "Hey, Rude. Get up."

Rude twitched, indicating that he was listening. "I'm awake."

"Anette Townsend. I think we've hit the jackpot, but can you check?"

"Sure."

The one who picked up was Tseng. "It's me, sir," he said, terse as usual. "You know that case… yes. Anette Townsend." A pause. Reno's ears picked up the change of tone; a woman was on the phone now, with a low, quiet voice. Arien. "Yes. Anette. Townsend. Yes."

"… found her…" he heard. "Thanks, Rude. I'll let Tseng know right away."

"What do you want?" Evan asked as soon as Rude ended the conversation. Reno looked at the rearview mirror again; the boy was young, very young, and unsure, fearful but also expectant. Expectant of what? That they might know where his mother is?

"It's not a bad deal, promise. We're gonna get there in about two hours, so you can sleep if you want." He realised Rude had really fallen asleep this time, and hit him in the shoulder. "Except Rude."

* * *

Tseng watched over the woman's shoulder as she ran a personnel search. "Anette, Anette…" he murmured. "I've never heard of her."

_Of course not,_ Arien thought cruelly. _You didn__'t hear about my sister either, now, did you?_

Of course, it wasn't entirely Tseng's fault that he had no idea his subordinate's twin sister had been shagging the late president, and Arien wasn't about to go up and tell him that. She had a gut feeling he might end up with a heart attack. And Tseng was already stressed out, although whether it was from the lack of structure, lack of sleep, or lack of everything in general she didn't know.

The search took a minute, and she sipped her tea as she waited. She wondered how Rude had learned of the name; perhaps he had talked to the kid? But why would the kid tell the truth? Was there an Anette Townsend in the database? Questions popped up then disappeared like bubbles in her thoughts, and she looked outside. It was already nighttime; the sun had bade goodbye for the day, and Healin was quiet, its patients silently suffering or sleeping. There were little twinkles of lights dotting the valley, and she could see it from where she sat.

The computer dinged, and she focused her attention back to the computer. "ONE MATCH FOUND", said the message box. She clicked OK, then ran through the data.

"Wow," she murmured under her breath. "That is one big severance package."

"What was that?" Tseng came back. Arien pointed at the screen.

"Anette Townsend," she explained. "Worked in the secretarial sector some twenty years ago. She had one big severance package."

"How big?"

"At least ten times the regular severance pay offered to the secretarial employees."

Tseng blinked. Nodded. "Go on."

"She also refused it," Arien continued.

"Anything else? About the son?"

"He's age nineteen. According to Reno, he and his friends are based in the slums and they're running a detective agency. But not just any detective agency, sir," she continued, "they have a girl who claims she can read the Lifestream to find the objective."

_Objective_. What a detached word to use. Tseng pressed.

"And is that true?"

The woman shook her head. "The last known Cetra died during the Meteor Crisis, sir. But I suppose you know that."

And he did. He remembered Aeris; the soft-spoken flower girl of the slums, dressed in pink, with large innocent eyes and a sweet smile. He had never admitted it - he didn't know that Reno knew about it anyway - but he had always had feelings for the young flower-girl. He knew they were never meant to be, not like Zack Fair, because he belonged in the darkness, was the hunter, and she belonged in the light and was the hunted. But still, he had developed feelings for her, which had never come to bear fruit. Out of the squad, Reno and Arien were the only ones who were having a successful relationship, if it could be called successful. Tseng sometimes had a feeling it wasn't. Reno was too wild, Arien too controlled, and what should have offset one another had instead made each other's traits worsen. Aeris was a flower, but Elena was a stone and Arien was steel.

He nodded and turned, going into the back room to report to Rufus, leaving Arien to the glow of the computer screen and thoughts about Tseng's lost love. She wondered about the Turks' incredibly bad luck when it came to relationships, and whether Elena would actually get anywhere with hers.

* * *

No one slept, except Rude, who slept silently and without movement. Silence reigned as Reno drove through the badlands. He had thought a few times to put some music on, but had decided against it. For one thing, he didn't really want to share his music with the kids, and for the second, Rude was sleeping. Despite telling Rude not to sleep, he didn't want to disturb the big burly man. They were really sleep-deprived these days.

"Is this drive to take Evan to Healin?" Kyrie finally spoke.

"Yeah."

"About his mum?"

"That's not unrelated, no."

Reno wondered again what his fellow female Turks would do in this situation: be silent, be vigilant, be ready to attack, probably. Elena would not be literally silent, but she'd probably chatter, filling the time with farcical nonsense that would give away no information about Elena herself. Arien would be mute.

Reno reminded himself that he needed to stop comparing an average girl to a trained spy and a killer. They lived in entirely different dimensions, but as the years went by, he was finding it harder and harder to remember how a normal person thought and behaved. In his world, there were three types of people: enemy, neutral, ally, and he automatically categorised everyone into one of the three, and behaved appropriately. There weren't sub-categories like 'friend but sometimes annoying' or 'work-related'. Despite telling Elena that confusing work and personal life was stupid, he himself was starting to confuse the two. The lines were blurring. It probably didn't help that there was _always_ someone who shared his work in his life: at home, Arien, at work, everyone else, outside, Rude.

"I'm sorry, Evan. I thought I was the one Shinra was taking," the girl was telling the boy.

"No, I got you involved instead."

"Not really," Reno interjected. "Hey girlie, look this way. We need to talk."

"Wait. Evan, can you hold my hand? With both hands?"

Reno doubted his ears in disbelief. A quick look in the mirror showed Evan and Kyrie holding hands. _What the fuck?_ Holding hands? For what? But he decided to ignore it. If it was something that could possibly be a threat, he had ways to neutralise it before it ever rolled into motion.

"Thanks. I think I'm calmer."

_Whaaaat?_ Did they actually calm down by holding hands? He knew for certain both Elena and Arien would _not_ calm down by this method; well, Elena, maybe, if it was Tseng, but Arien was a definite no. She'd want a five-fold plan and two sub-plans and three back-ups to feel calm. Which never happened. So she was usually tense during missions.

"So, what is it?" Kyrie's tone was challenging.

"Don't fraud stuff like reading the Lifestream, okay?" Reno said, as if he was talking to a child.

"Leave us alone."

"No can do. Now that I know you're Evan's friend". Emphasis on friend. He noticed Evan looking… relieved? Then he tucked the hat over his eyes and hid his face. Weird kid.

"For the guys who know, saying stuff like 'I read the Lifestream!' would make them think you're one of the Ancients. Right? Actually, we got a report a while ago that there's a woman who calls herself an Ancient, so we looked you up. We left you alone 'cause you were obviously fake and we didn't care what happened."

Evan looked up, looking curious. _Why do these kids have their thoughts written on their faces?_

"Shinra had a Scientific Research Division. And there were members who were research nuts or who were just ambition and nothing else. For those guys, Ancient's one heck of a research specimen."

"But I'm not an Ancient. So what does it have to do with me?"

_Additional question. Why are these kids so slow? Do I gotta explain one plus one?_

"Anyway, some of those bozos? We don't know where they are. And no matter how much you say that you aren't the real deal and you're fake, they'll still try to look into it. You have no idea what they'll do to you, kid. By the time they know you're fake, you'll be one big mess."

Silence.

"Like Aeris?"

Reno did not answer.

"What happened to Aeris?"

That, he could answer. "She died," he said shortly, and suddenly the vehicle was filled with the engine noise and the sound of the tyres hitting rocks and shaking the truck. Reno stepped on the gas.

"Huh?"

Evan looked confused. Actually, Reno could not remember him _not_ looking confused.

"Is it true that there are things like the memory of the dead, and their feelings, and the knowledge, are melted into the Lifestream?"

"We've no way of checking. Either way's the same."

"Lifestream is the source of the life that travels through the planet. It is the life of the planet itself."

A familiar statement. It was what the AVALANCHE had said, that fateful night when he had dropped the Sector 7 plate. It was a bunch of nonsense, of course, not the statement itself but the fact that AVALANCHE was making it; they'd killed people, and they used electricity just like anyone else, so it was kind of like eating poison and then telling everyone that poison was bad for you. In Reno's experience, people were thoroughly unconvinced if you stopped someone from doing something while doing it yourself. Those people were generally labelled hypocrites and looked down upon.

"I don't know about information and knowledge and stuff, but there was conscience. Didn't you feel it, that day?"

_No, and you neither. We were all just tiny bugs that day, ready to be stomped on for messing with Mama Nature._

"I thought so. Lifestream saved the planet's crisis. The will of the people who died blew the Meteor away."

"Was Aeris your friend?" Reno asked.

"Not sure." Kyrie told the story of how she had used to play in the half-ruined church - probably the same church he had chased Aeris in - and how Aeris told her to hurry home one day. Kyrie had hurried home, thinking that Aeris was angry because she had stepped on the flowers, only to find out that her parents were dead. How she remembered her grandmother telling her about the Lifestream. Kyrie had told the flower-girl that she was creeped out, and then she had gone back to the church years after to get some flowers for the dead people of Sector 7, only to find out that Aeris had been taken by the Turks.

"Hey, can we talk about something else, girl?"

If Kyrie had heard, she made no indication. "Are you listening, Evan?" He said yes, so she continued. "A year ago, when we didn't have any customers, Leslie said we should quit, and I didn't want to, so I brought up the Lifestream. And it got successful-"

"Yeah."

"I still remember what I said to Aeris, when it's nighttime and I'm alone."

"Yeah."

"Hey, Evan… maybe we should quit?"

Kyrie apparently had an amazing knack of ignoring everything except what she wanted to say. Lucky her. Also lucky him, since he had gathered much information from this talkative girl than the confused and wimpy counterpart. Rufus, at least, had a vision and the will; this boy had neither.

"Sure. I don't think Leslie and the rest would be against it either."

"So… we're breaking up."

"How many of you are there?" The driving Turk asked. "You guys can come to the square. Let's make the memorial, eh?"

"But Evan, maybe we should finish Mr Arld's request?"

"You ignorin' me now?"

"Oh, right."

What was shoved next to his head was a photograph. Reno glanced at it without turning his head. It was a photograph, somewhat old, a snapshot of men and women.

"Can you look at that? The front row, all the way to the right?"

"What? Work already?"

"His name's Gould Arld. He was a SOLDIER."

Reno glanced at it. "You say SOLDIER, but the uniform's Second's. Not sure about the Second's… hey Rude, take a look at this photo."

Kyrie now shoved the photograph to the bald man, who had not moved. She lightly tapped on his shoulder, which woke him up. After a moment of silence, Rude re-adjusted his sunglasses, then took a close look at the picture.

"That's… Nibelheim."

"Nibelheim…" She took the photograph back. Shortly after, he heard Evan repeat the town's name.

"Yeah." _Now that he mentions it, I recognise it._ "When was this picture taken?"

"It's sometime between the Sector Seven drop and the night when the Meteor disappeared." Surprisingly, the answer came from Evan. Reno noticed something was off. To his knowledge, Nibelheim had burned during Sephiroth's mad rampage and since then, the townsfolk had been entirely replaced by Shinra's handpicked agents who served no purpose except to put up the pretence that nothing had happened. If this man was indeed in Nibelheim, then there'd be no reason he would have been seen in Midgar after it. And if he was indeed in Nibelheim, it was unlikely he was alive. Most of the folks who had replaced the dead had also died in the Meteor incident.

"Was that what he said?" Kyrie was asking.

"Yeah."

_Lies._


	22. The Two Brothers

4 reviews! I am elated. Thank you so much for reading! I recently started re-writing _Dum Spiro Spero_, and I was wondering if you'd like some cybernetics added to the story setting. It's a cyberpunk setting without any cyber, so I thought it might be fun. Do let me know.

Bloodwitch Raven - they meet... in this chapter, actually. I tried to create a very stark contrast between Rufus Shinra and Evan. There's a lot of speculation fanfics on Rufus' past, none of which is happy, while Evan seems to have had a fairly normal childhood. There's going to be a shock for both of them.

Jeantall - the last statement is a bit puzzling (so please do elaborate so I can answer). Thanks for reading this long (and sometimes long-winded) fic series. I've started somewhat on the 3rd one, a bit prematurely, so I'll definitely re-write the 3rd one as well. That one's going to have an almost complete rewrite.

blob80 - Kyrie is... well, Evan and Kyrie are 'normal' kids, while Reno and Arien are 'abnormal' kids. They're sort of a contrasting foil against each other, like 'what could have been' and 'what happened'. Maybe that's why? I do like Reno better, though, he seems to have a stronger character. Evan was rather blah.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - It's sort of fun writing these scenes from the Turks' view. We don't, for instance, get Tseng's view, or Rude's view, and we get a scant amount of Reno's view, so writing the scenes from the Turks' viewpoint is rather refreshing. I really do love Rufus... he grows up, and we get to see it.

Chapter 21: The Two Brothers

* * *

"We're here. Get off. It's midnight, there's gonna be patients sleeping, so keep quiet," Reno ordered with a hiss. Evan opened his eyes. It was silent save for the soft chorus of the small insects that surrounded him. The kid got off and stretched.

"It's a bit chilly," noted the girl as she followed suit. Reno paid scant attention as he quickly sent Arien a message: _bringing the kid, stay out of sight_. She probably won't know why she needed to be out of sight, but when it came to work, she was astoundingly obedient. Well, she was always work first, privacy second; if it was part of work she'd probably fuck in front of an audience.

He vaguely remembered one mission they had done together; she had messed up and they had ended up in a secluded cell. This was before they had started dating, and there was nothing but a table, a chair, and a bed that was only big enough for one. And it was so bugged he was pretty sure they could pinpoint the exact location of where they were standing by triangulation. Ultimately Reno had ended up removing the bug near the bed and picking the lock with a couple of pins that dotted the bottom panel of the bed, but it had taken some acting to remove the electronic gadget that ultimately involved the woman moaning and some repetitive movement on the bed. It was right around then, he reminisced, that he had started viewing her as a potential female and not an annoying coworker. He had been above her, trying to find the bug with his left hand and had looked down to see her looking… surprisingly seductive as she made noises. Later on she had glared at him as if she wanted to dice him into pieces and cook him in a stew, then stormed off. But the plan was the only one he could come up with at such a short notice, especially with the limited handcodes they could use.

He glanced at the two children; Evan was putting the jacket back on. "Let's go."

"It's still scary," Kyrie said as they followed him. Rude brought up the rear; Evan kept yawning. Was he that bored? Or did he just keep really regular bedtimes? Reno never had a _bedtime_; he slept when he could, wherever he could. Everyone else in the squad was the same. Sleep was a luxury that didn't come by often.

"We're going there." He pointed.

Rufus' lodge was up at the top, accessible by a set of wooden stairs that would have given the otherwise grey landscape a splash of brown. But it was nighttime, so everything was just a consortium of shadows. The lights were on, so his coworkers were still up. Well.

"Raise your hands," he said, stopping the two kids.

"Why?"

"Security check." Not that it really mattered; with five trained killers in attendance, each with their own expertise, Rufus couldn't be much safer. But he did it anyway, tapping Evan's body, and eventually found a small army knife, the size that would fit into his hand. It wouldn't do much but maybe cut bread, but it was still a knife. He eyed the blade, then eyed the boy.

"Well, sign of trust," he said, then returned the knife to the pocket. "How's it goin' over there?"

Rude looked at him, arms crossed.

"Go ahead."

"That's all-right."

"I might be hiding some big weapon." The girl was smiling. Reno raised an eyebrow. The fact that she said that was just the evidence to know that she didn't. Those with intent to use the weapon never told of it. Surprise was a weapon just as useful as any other.

But he went along with it anyway. "Sure. You might do it, girlie. So you wait here. Let's go then."

He had walked off a few steps when he heard a sharp "ow!" and turned. Rude was holding onto the girl's arm, who was wiggling like a worm. The boy spoke up.

"Kyrie, it's okay. Reno and Rude are friends."

_Friends? I had friends? Well, friends that weren__'t spies and liars? When did that happen?_ The very thought was so ludicrous he nearly laughed. "That's great," he said, with mirth.

They climbed the stairs in silence, and they had just about finished climbing when Reno turned around. "Hey Evan," he said, "your mum's, whatchamacallit, dead body? Did you check?"

"No."

"Then don't talk like she died. Well, believe that she's alive."

"It's been two years. If she was alive, she'd tell me something."

"This isn't about logic, Evan." If he had relied on logic, he would have assumed Arien was dead; or she would have given up on him when he had jumped off from the falling plate. Normally people died after such falls. But they had both had survived, and despite all the setbacks, she was with him again. Miracles did happen.

But Evan didn't seem to buy it. _Of course not. Why should he?_

"Take off your hat, just in case," he warned as he stood in front of the door. A quick call-and-hang-up to Arien made sure she'd be out of sight. Taking out the keys, he opened the door, then quickly checked, just in case. No one was there. He walked down the short corridor and knocked on the door, the kid in tow.

"It's me. I brought him."

A deeper voice answered. "That was quick." The door opened, and Evan craned his neck to see who it was. A Wutaian man was in the doorway, still fully dressed in an immaculate suit, every strand of his dark hair in place. There was a red mark on his forehead, and his face was well-formed, but rather cold. Stern, even. He did not even glance at Evan.

"Well, yeah. It's gonna be a touching moment of encounter." He leaned onto the doorframe. "The prez looks better."

"Yes. But it's nearly bedtime. Night here comes quickly."

"Yeah yeah," Reno drawled. "And you've heard about Evan, right? I mean, if I was told it's none of my business, then that's it, but…"

"Then I suppose that's it."

"Aw, prez!"

Tseng ignored Reno's nasal whine and called out. "Come in."

Rufus observed him. He was… young, obvious from the way he grasped at the hat as if it was the lifeboat. Same hair colour, the eyes… the eyes were from his - or their? - father. And the brows. But the bone structure they did not share. Rufus had inherited his mother's structure, with the gentle curve of the jaw, although not as angular and pointed as Reno's. Evan, on the other hand, had a blockier structure. Shorter than himself, as well, and dressed in attire that he would never wear. Despite the shared genes, Rufus was well aware of the fact that they were very different, almost too different.

And apparently they differed almost completely in their upbringing as well. Rufus Shinra had been pitted against his fellow siblings since childhood, always compared against; for the old man, love was something to be earned by beating the others, not something that was given unconditionally. And Rufus had won, but by the time he realised he had won, he had also missed out on much of his childhood. A bizarre experiment, that was what he was, a child who had been designed to rule. And so he knew, instinctively, that he would never wear that dumbfounded expression Evan wore now, nor would he wear it with the natural ease. Control was the key to winning the game, and he had learned that early on.

But Evan… his face was like an open book, as readable as the Turks' weren't. And the Turks indeed were illegible. Reno, despite his 'openness', was far too open for it to be natural, and Rufus knew that the openness was just a facade to lower others' guards. One very rarely even saw Rude's eyes. Tseng never reacted visibly, and Elena, like Reno, also never really showed her true face. She wore the mask of a bright, cheery bubblehead, but she had survived in the squad so she had to have the face of the killer. And DeVir's face was made of porcelain.

This boy wore his expressions like second skin. Confusion, surprise, anger… these things flashed across the face almost as clearly as the day. Similar facial structures, but it was obvious they were of the different stock. He had grown up in an environment where honesty had been a valued virtue, not viewed as a weakness to be exploited upon. A 'normal' life, with normal virtues cherished. Rufus had grown up in the exact opposite, where good lies kept you alive, showing your emotions got you seriously hurt, the world was a war and either one was an ally or a foe.

And his father wondered how he had gotten such a messed-up son?

"Prez, this is Evan Townsend," Reno said to him. "And Evan, this is the President." Evan's eyes widened, and Rufus realised that the redhead had told the child pretty much nothing. Well, he wasn't going to be a spoilsport.

"The president… Rufus Shinra?" Evan whispered. To Reno.

"Yes. You can call me the Idiot President, if you wish." The moniker was something that had been going around soon after his father had died. Pampered, spoiled, stupid were the general judgement given to him. He had known it was going to be difficult to surpass his father's image, and it had not helped that his presidency had been cursed by one mishap from the next. But he no longer paid it any attention. He had bigger things to think about.

"Alive…?" Again to Reno.

"The one who died was a stand-in. And you're one of its candidates… and from the looks of it, you qualify."

The boy's mouth opened, and he looked first at Reno, then him, then Tseng. Tseng was looking down, trying not to laugh. After an awkward silence, Reno waved his hand.

"It's a joke, man. Eyes and brow, the general posture… man I was surprised when I first saw you."

"I was brought here because I look like him?"

"Well, that's a fun enough reason, but I thought, just maybe."

Tseng interjected. "Evan. You are the president's brother. Half-sibling, to be exact."

Evan was afraid of this man. Reno was full of… what made humans people. Maybe it was the smile, or the way he carried himself, but there was a comfortable familiarity with him, despite the fact that there was no doubt the redhead could probably kill him before he could even blink. Rude was the same, although to a lesser degree. But this man… he lacked it, whatever made people people and not just moving, breathing creatures. Of course, he didn't look like the joking type. So that meant…

"But my father… he died in the war."

"Continue to believe it, if you wish. Shinra's name won't be of much use now, regardless of the power it had a few years ago. But it seems without doubt we are related. How is your mother?"

"Missing, from the looks of it." Reno answered; Evan was trying to stifle a yawn. Reno wondered whether this kid had some physiological problem that made him continually yawn.

"Hey Prez! Evan! Look happier, jeez! It's a tearful reunion of two estranged brothers!"

_Sarcasm?_ Rufus wondered for a moment. He knew that Reno had a brother, and that they were estranged; Reno never talked about his brother, or his family for that matter. It seemed that the Turks were his only family now, if they could be called a family. Having grown up without any sense of 'family' to begin with, Rufus wasn't sure. What did it feel like to have parents who actually cared about their children without any sense of 'this is my heir'?

"What do you want?" the kid croaked. Rufus laughed. "What's so funny?"

"What an awful thing it is, blood ties, don't you think? Evan."

Reno and Tseng both stared at Rufus, who continued to laugh. He only stopped when an explosion rocked the cabin.

* * *

Arien nearly fell off the sofa when she heard the explosion that reverberated through the valley. She had fallen asleep in her uniform, waiting for Reno. She always did, and he always came back and carried her to bed. He had once said that she nuzzled him when he gathered her into his arms. She didn't remember it, and she didn't like the idea of it. But he had merely laughed. She heard voices, then Reno burst in.

"Get up," he ordered shortly, then kicked one of the rifle cases over. "Get to the roof. Splash over with signal." Then he hurried out. Slinging the rifle onto her shoulder, She climbed the back stairs to get to the rooftop, then set the tranquiliser gun onto the tripod. She squinted as her eyes adjusted, saw the three men running. What was going on? Tseng disappeared toward the outskirts of the sanatorium; Reno and Rude went around the car just coming into the little open space. A sedan. There were two successive gunshots - both missing by a wide margin, so an amateur - and Reno slid behind a tree.

"We're taking Slop!"

"Kyrie, it's Fabio!"

"Are you serious?!"

Talk, talk, talk. Arien blinked. Three more gunshots - waste of bullet - then more talking, something about Slop. Who in the wide world named themselves or their children Slop? The world was filled with people who clearly thought common nouns were good names. She didn't think Cloud was a good name either.

Rude moved. And someone cried, "Fabio, behind you!"

Still no signal. One more gunshot. Six rounds; from the sounds of it, the firearm was a six-round revolver. It was game over, and she moved her shoulder, easing the muscles.

"I'll shoot!"

"Go ahead." That was Rude. Reno left his spot as well; the empty click sounded, telling everyone present that the gun was out of rounds.

"Run, Fabio!"

Okay, Fabio wasn't a good name either.

"Go back to the car, Fabio!"

She was starting to feel ignored.

"We're okay!" a girl's voice. There was a sound of a car door slamming, then a rev of the engine that suddenly died; Reno and Rude were closing in, and Reno had his baton in his hand. She focused again. There were more noises of an engine trying to come back to life and failing.

"Evan, we have to do something!" the girl cried again.

"Yeah."

There was a crash and the shattering sound of glass. Reno had smashed the front glass.

"Get out. Hands raised."

She blinked again, this time not because of her eyes, but because Reno sounded serious; but upon reflection she realised that he wasn't, not really. The lethal tone he only used when he was ready to kill was absent, and she sighed in relief. Then she heard Rude telling them to kneel, keeping their hands in the air; then the girl asking Evan what to do. Then the girl pleading to Rufus to do something.

Still no signal. Rufus said something, then Evan murmured something - she'd need Rude's hearing to understand what they said - then the boy told Reno and Rude to look 'this way', then to 'get away from the car if they valued the president's life'. She was now confused; what was going on? What was Rufus thinking? What? What?!

"Oh, c'mon…" she heard Reno's voice, then the light steps. More shouting from Evan at Rude to get away from 'Fabio'. Then, "stop!".

The light footsteps stopped.

"Don't be stupid." Reno's voice again. It was now too close to aim properly. Still no signal. She was beyond the point of irritation and was now starting to feel useless.

"Mayor!' cried the boy again. "There's a truck just outside the sanatorium. It's Shinra's. Can you bring it here?"

"Roger that!" There was a sound of running. Still no signal.

"Reno. Go with Rude to check on the lab. Tell Tseng there's no need for meddling."

"Seriously, Prez? Seriously?!"

_Yes, Rufus, seriously?_ Arien thought. She knew that Rufus had a gun hidden away somewhere, he always did, but for some reason Rufus told Reno that he didn't want to die, then asked the girl her name.

"Kyrie Kanan," she said.

"There's a gun in my gown pocket. Take it with you."

_I__'m sure you have a plan, President, but I don't have a clue what. And I'm getting tired of being stuck on a roof like a lizard. My arm's starting to hurt._

"There're a few boxes of rounds in the back room. Take it as well."

Then the boy asked why. She silently thanked him; she had no idea what was going on.

"Aren't you going back? There are quite a few monsters out in the badlands. That knife won't do a thing."

"Not what I meant-"

"I'll let you take the credit, but this'll be the last time. Next time I will not be so generous, even if we are related-"

_A ha, so that__'s the reason why Reno brought him here._ Despite his apparent hatred for the male members of his family, Reno seemed to have a persistent fascination with the idea of blood kin. She couldn't help him out there; she'd murdered her own twin sister, and despite the faint echo of guilt she felt about it - probably because she felt bad for her father - she wasn't actually too regretful about that decision. Reniel had been a conniving bitch, to borrow Reno's words, and she wasn't too sad to put a bullet in her head.

"Found it!" Kyrie's voice, then the engine roared.

"Go."

"Get well soon." Kyrie again. She wondered what sort of life the girl had led to end the conversation with that particular sentiment. Then Evan said something along the lines of "I'm not jealous", then Rufus answered "I thought so", Kyrie reminded the boy that everyone was waiting. Then there was a pause, and she saw Evan drop something into Rufus' lap. "It's for the gun."

And then they were gone.

She did not move from her position until Reno told her that she could. She hurt all over as she stretched; when she had come down, Rufus was playing with a small pocket knife that seemed suitable to cut cheese but not much else. He glanced at her; Reno was sitting on the sofa, looking bored. Rude and Tseng were still absent.

"Tell me something," Rufus said. "When was the first time you handled a real knife?"

The couple looked at each other. Then Reno spoke.

"I was… fifteen?" He did not sound too sure. "I got in a fight."

"I was twelve. At the academy. Knife-fighting class." She showed the two men her arm, where she bore a single white slash. "I didn't do too well."

"Yeah. You suck at close-quarter combat." Arien said nothing at that. She really did. Every time they sparred, she ended up on the floor with Reno saying something along the lines of "you fight like a girl".

Rufus did not say anything after that, but from the way he looked, they both knew what he was thinking, because it was a thought that had occurred to both of them, looking at the young kids. _Did I ever have a chance to live like them? A normal life, filled with friends and trust?_ But neither of them could even remotely imagine it; their life events had shaped them, and like neither of them could imagine being someone else, they could not imagine being 'normal'.


	23. The Price of Love

BloodwitchRaven - Normalcy is greatly desired by those who are not abnormal by choice. Or so sayeth a wise man once. I think Arien, at least, would have liked a normal relationship, but that was shot the moment she felt attracted to the redhead. Sometimes you just can't help it, I guess.

blob80 - The novel was never completely translated, I think. Or maybe they're still working on it. You won't need to read it to understand the plot (Kyrie and Evan aren't the main focus of the story... we still have AC to get through as well). I'm not a big fan of Kyrie and Evan either, but the novel's writing was so bad it's hard to envision them clearly.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - I'm not sure when the third novel is set in, because the Turks don't really show up in DOC. It might be before, or way after. I'm guessing after, because it does start out with the entire town not in a total wreck. I think the cyberpunk would be more along the Ghost in the Shell, if I do decide to use the setting.

Some introspection, some extrospection, the plot's trudging along... I also realised that for a relationship story this really doesn't mention love at all.

Chapter 22: The Price of Love

* * *

Things quieted down after _that_ particular show, something that the Turks really appreciated in abundance. Reno focused on the construction work with much complaint. There was a part of him that wanted the 'kids' to join the crew, that Arien knew; she knew also that the kids won't come either, but said nothing that may deflate Reno's vague hopes. Reno was an eternal optimist as much as Arien was a pessimist, which was probably why the redhead, despite the close situations he'd been in since the day Meteor exploded, had yet to show symptoms of Geostigma. He hadn't survived all the events for nothing. As for Rude, he seemed calm, watching over his redheaded - and wildly errant - partner with the patience of an elder, and infinitely wiser, brother.

Or perhaps Rude siphoned off excitement and energy from the redhead. He had mentioned such, once, when Arien had asked, but he was a man of few words and Arien did not press him, expecting to expound upon it if he felt like it. Which he didn't.

Either way, Arien didn't see the two very often. Nor Tseng and Elena. She was mostly with Rufus, taking care of the invalid president, or back in the Edge. When she was in town Siva mostly took up her time, so two Geostigma patients ate up her time completely. If Reno minded, he didn't say; he did seem rather happy that she would not be sitting around by herself. Despite her capabilities, he still sometimes watched her as if she might disappear. Sometimes he came home when Siva was over; she'd leave soon after, and Reno'd eat whatever the two women had been making. He knew something was wrong with the ginger, but if he was curious, he didn't probe. Secrecy was a second nature to the Turks.

"Are you okay with Reno eating… your stuff?" Arien had asked one afternoon. Siva was sampling the omelette she had perfected, and she looked rather happy. Arien was folding laundry. Reno went through shirts like they were tissue.

"Hey. If I accidentally mess something up, Reno probably won't die if he eats it. Axil might not be so lucky." She laughed. "I want him to eat something edible."

"You've been doing well so far."

"I know, but you never know. You only know if something's edible only after you try It. " She poked at the yellow egg concoction with a fork. "You guys have better bodies against poison."

She smiled, then bent down to pick up another shirt. This one was hers. Siva turned her head, then a frown crossed her face, which Arien did not see. "Hang on," she said. Arien righted herself, turning to look at her. "Can you um, bend over again?"

The taller woman looked puzzled. "Um, why?"

"Just do it, will you?"

Arien obeyed. Siva got out from her seat, then gently touched the nape of her neck. It did not come away; a black smear, like a birthmark, but it wasn't a birthmark. Siva knew this so well, knew all about it, and felt horror and pity for her, for Reno. Because she knew all the anguish it'd cause, all the terrifying moments Arien would go through. And she hoped she could help her friend out, just as much as her friend had hellped her out.

"What? What is it?" Arien asked.

"Sit down," Siva said. "You're going to need a stiff drink for this."

"What?"

"Where do you keep your booze?" Siva asked, ignoring Arien's question.

"Reno keeps it in the second cabinet from the left. What are you talking about?"

Siva ignored her. She walked over to the kitchen, got a glass out, took a random bottle from the cabinet - it was a bottle of whiskey - and poured a full glass. She put the bottle back then put the glass in Arien's hands. "Down it," she said gently. "You're going to need it."

"Siva, _what is going on_?"

"I'm not telling you until you drink it."

"I don't see much point. We metablolise alcohol too quickly to get drunk."

"I don't want you drunk, I want you slightly tipsy." Arien shook her head, but swallowed the alcohol anyway, feeling it trail a warmth down her throat. She remembered kissing Reno and smelling this particular scent from his mouth, then wondered why even habits that would be viewed as unsavoury in society was a turn-on for her. But Reno didn't drink to get drunk. She assumed he just liked the taste or something.

When the glass was finished, Siva took it, placed it on the table. "Arien," she said quietly, "you have Geostigma."

* * *

Arien stared at her. "I, I what?" She stammered.

"You have it," Siva said softly. "It's barely visible, but it's there. It's… on the nape of your neck? You haven't had an attack yet, have you?"

Arien shook her head. "It's on my head?"

"Something like that. My guess is it's around here." She drew an oval on Arien's skin, right where her hair growth ended and her neck began. "Arien… you know what they say about this illness. When did you think you were going to die?"

Shock made her mute for a moment, her thoughts rushing, panicking. She almost couldn't breathe. If Reno knew… oh gods. Reno was awful at handling situations where he couldn't just beat the crap out of and resolve, and if this situation wasn't one of them, she didn't know what was. Disease wasn't something you could shoot at, kill, threaten, or do anything about. It was about biology and some subconscious psychology, but not much else.

"What?" She asked blankly.

"When did you think you were going to die?"

She thought for a moment. After the Meteor Crisis, never; she was too busy, and with the way Reno had acted after he had found her, dying wasn't really an option. It was likely he might just brush her death off and walk on, but it was also equally likely that he'll shatter. She doubted it, but there was one in a million chance, and she wasn't willing to risk it, for him and for the public safety. No one wanted Reno postal.

"Um…" she thought some more. "When I was unconscious?"

"You mean, while you were in the hospital?"

She nodded. "I… had a dream. I don't know if it lasted for weeks or just for a few minutes, but I… I talked to my mother?" The last part came out like a question. "And I think I said I didn't want to live anymore. I thought Reno was gone, and well, I felt all alone, and… well, my mother put right to that." Her mother had told her that Reno still needed her, and her friends were waiting for her return. But she couldn't deny that she had wanted to die.

Siva thought for a moment. "Well, at least I had some part in bringing you back," she said with a smile. Arien was struck again with the purity of Siva's smile; it felt as if everything that had been physical, carnal, and impure had been distilled out from Siva's being, leaving only the pure part of her. Did she know? Did Axil know?

"I don't know what to tell Reno," Arien murmured. "He'd… he won't react to this well."

"Then don't tell him."

She stared blankly.

"I haven't told Axil yet. I haven't told anyone else yet. I know," she nodded, "it's scary to tell someone, because then you're saying it out loud and you're kind of cementing the fact that this is true, real life, and so not a dream. But you have to tell someone, it's weighing you down. So I told you guys. But you don't have to tell Reno until you're ready. You should tell it when you're ready to face it, and that takes time."

"Maybe telling Reno would… speed up the research a bit."

"How?" A shrug. "I'm sure the researchers are doing their best as it is. If they are lazing off while making the entire world wait for the cure, then they're heartless bastards that need to die. But they're doing this voluntarily, so I don't think they're that cruel."

"Are you going to tell Fellie and Ivy?"

"Did you tell Reno about me?"

Arien shook her head.

"Then no. It's not my place to tell. It's going to be hard, Arien. Everyday I wake up, hope that there'll be a cure… and every night I go to bed, knowing that Axil doesn't know a thing, and there's still no cure. It's really hard, sometimes I feel like I'm getting crushed. I'm terrified I won't wake up the next morning, I keep seeing Axil trying to wake me up and panicking because I'm dead… but I can't tell him, I just can't." Siva's voice shook. "Because telling Axil will be the final straw, making this really, truly real, making the possibility that I might die soon real. As long as I don't admit it, it feels like it's happening to someone else, you know? Maybe that's why I come here. When I'm with you… well, you don't try to fill the silence with chatter."

"Who does that?"

"Ivy. Fellie just tries to act normal, but she can't. It's hard looking at her trying not to cry, you know. I sometimes catch her wiping her eyes, and I feel bad. But you… you just carry on as if I'm still normal. I can forget that I'm sick when you act like that." She sighed. "It's so hard, isn't it, when you love someone? You can't even die in a ditch by yourself. You worry what the other person would feel, imagine them hurt over it, and you keep trudging on like you're in a race with a broken foot. It sucks."

Arien looked down at her hands. Reno… he was like a rubber band stretched to its maximum. One more tension and he might fly apart. She loved him with all the desperation of someone who knew there was no turning back. Had she picked someone with a little more stability, she might have had less moral dilemma telling him, but Reno… he'd feel powerless and weak against the situation, something he desperately avoided. He was a fighter, but this wasn't something he could fight against. And he'd rage against it, rage against his lack of power to do anything about the situation, rage against himself. She wanted to save him from that particular emotional state, if possible.

_Oh god. I love you so much I__'m willing to die alone, unseen, and forgotten. And you won't let me. What can I do? I wish you'd kill me so at least we'd both know I died because of your choice. _

Reno might very well do it; he had a twisted logic of "I'd rather destroy it than let someone else have it", and she had a gut feeling this included herself. 'I'd rather kill you than let something else kill you' sounded very much like Reno. And people called this demented, but she called this possessiveness, and Reno couldn't be honest enough with himself to show his affections in many other ways. He had been too twisted by his past to be straightforward with his emotions.

This was a lose-lose situation.

"I can't tell Reno," she said finally. "Felicita… I don't know. I don't think she'll react as badly as she did to you, but… she's a caring person. I don't know."

"Ivy won't understand," Siva said.

"What do you mean?"

"She can't understand… why we won't want to tell our boyfriends. She lives in a different world. She's in this world where two people who love each other can tell each other anything. We know that's not always true." Siva shook her head. "Sometimes… we keep secrets so that people we love don't get hurt. But we only know that because we've been in those kinds of situations. Telling Ivy is a bad idea, Arien. She'd feel betrayed."

Arien nodded. She loved Ivy, but it was because Ivy was the epitome of life she could never have; an open, honest relationship, with normalcy, straightforwardness, and no… twistedness. She loved Reno for all his crookedness, but there was a part of her that sometimes yearned for something less complicated. But the very reason that she loved Ivy for was also the reason there was a part of her that Ivy would never understand. She sighed.

"Is Reno coming home tonight?" Siva asked suddenly. Arien jerked back at the sudden change of topic, but shook her head no. Reno was in Healin for the night, guarding Rufus and monitoring the illegal drug labs to make sure they weren't in production again. No. She was going to be alone.

"I think I'll stay here for the night," decided Siva without asking for Arien's permission. Arien began to shake her head, but Siva raised her hand, forestalling her protests.

"Arien, tonight is _the_ night you don't want to be alone. Trust me on this, you really, really don't want to be alone tonight." And then she winked, and Arien nearly cried, seeing the faint ghost of Siva's old cheeriness. "And who'd know that better than me?"

A quick call to Axil was all it took. He suspected nothing about Siva, and Arien wondered how men, who were so sensitive to danger, could be so oblivious to those who were dying right around them. What was the reason behind this selective blindness? And why were women sensitive to it?

"It was easier then we were alone, wasn't it?" Siva said over supper. They had ended up making another omelette and eating that, rather than make something entirely new. Arien was in no mood to dive into the finer points of cuisine.

"Hm?" Arien looked up.

"When we were single, it was so much easier." Siva sighed. "If we ended up in a ditch, no one'd care. Well, our friends would care, but it wasn't like we'd disappoint them or ruin their lives, you know? But now that we're not single… we can't even die at our own leisure." She motioned Arien for water. "I stayed with Axil partly because I didn't want to die alone in a ditch, and now I'm moaning that I can't die alone in a ditch. How ironic."

"Reno… might be fine," Arien said thoughtfully. Siva put her silverware down and crossed her arms, cocking her head slightly as if to chastise her.

"Arien, don't be ridiculous," she said. "Reno is _not_ going to be fine if you just croak it. I don't know if this is because he loves you or because he's a control freak-"

"Five gils it's the latter."

"-but he does want you to be around him. For all that's worth, he did go to some lengths to visit you when he could when you were out cold."

"He did?"

"He sure did. He cares for you, Arien. And not just in a 'she's my girlfriend' sense. He trusts you, and after seeing Axil, that's _rare_. Those guys… they rarely trust anyone, at least not completely. I guess their lives treated them badly enough to give them a sort of 'there are more enemies than allies' kind of philosophy. Reno trusts you, and for him, I think that's the biggest thing he can give." She picked up her fork again. "Do you trust him? That's the question."

"Trust him in what way?"

"To be there for you."

Arien pondered. Did she? Reno wasn't the kind to be _there_. That implied a state of being, but Reno was ever moving, always running, always shifting. If law and order were embodiment of permanence, Reno was chaos. He was like a fire, never keeping the same form, always moving…

_You__'re like a wind. You go wherever you want to, touching everyone but not enough to leave hurt._

Darren had said that, years ago, to her. Wind and fire. Did those two go together? Technically they could help each other; fire gave rise to wind by warming the air, and the wind stirred the fire, making it burn bigger. But the wind could also extinguish the fire. The reverse… she wasn't quite sure.

Could it be that Reno would be very, very hurt if she just disappeared?

Siva watched as these thoughts caterwauled through Arien's head. She had a long journey ahead of her, Siva knew that well; and she'd need Reno's help the most, but Reno was the one person Arien couldn't tell at the moment. Such dilemma, because while Arien knew that she should tell Reno as soon as possible, she was still afraid to acknowledge the fact of it. And it'd take her some time. It was taking Siva some time.

Yes, they both had a long journey ahead of them. Siva sincerely hoped that they'd be able to look back and laugh at it someday, hoped that things would end happily ever after. But she also remembered what she had told Reno, a year ago, in Arien's bathroom. She didn't want the story to end. If not for her sake, then for Axil's, because they had finally found each other… well, not found, that was not an apt word. But they had finally _grown_ on each other, and that was rare indeed.

Suddenly she very badly felt like crying.


	24. The Redhead and the Baldhead

I know I'm late... I'm swamped with work.

blob80 - Yeah... I also think it's a mistake for Arien not to tell Reno, but she's not the omniscient god that I am in their universe, is she? She's going to make mistakes and so will he. Let's hope Reno's kind and open-minded...

\- This is the difference between Reno and Arien; Arien is a pessimist and Reno's an optimist, which is why he didn't get Geostigma and she did. I think he's maturing enough to emotionally support her, though.

Bloodwitch Raven - We do have a few tidbits about Rufus' mother, but we don't know who she is. My guess is that Rufus and she got separated at his early age which is why Rufus is so messed up.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - The spin's going to be a bit different this time, more focus on Arien trying to accept her past (with her sister) and Reno trying to show that he cares for her. There's going to be more focus on Reno's mind.

Chapter 23: The Redhead and the Baldhead

* * *

Reno had more pressing matters to attend to than Siva's cooking, and so he didn't realise anything when Arien called him. It was the day after the particular incident with Evan, and Reno, Rude and Arien were back in the Edge, while Tseng and Elena stayed behind in Healin. Or that was how it was supposed to be, and Reno did not have an ounce of doubt about the situation until his phone rang. "Reno… oh, what's up?" He yawned into the phone. "What?"

"Is Tseng there?" Arien was asking.

"No, why the hell would he be here? He's with 'Laney probably in some god-forsaken place."

A moment of silence, then "this is not good".

"What's not good?" He asked, as he got ready. He did _not_ sign up to become a construction worker, and was nonplussed to have to do it everyday. It also didn't help that sometimes there were yahoos who tried to attack him in the middle of the square. All in all, this memorial-building was starting to get onto his nerves.

"Tseng and Elena are missing," came Arien's voice from the phone. "I can't get hold of them."

"Are you sure they aren't shacking up in some hotel?"

"Tseng's not you, Reno." He heard her sigh. "All-right. I'll tell Rufus."

"Tell him what?" Reno asked in bafflement. "'Hi, your most trusted subordinate is missing, we've no idea where he is, and guess what, we can't go look for him either'? Yeah, that'd fly over real well."

"True." A pause. "I'm just going to tell Rufus that you should know where he is if he ever asks. Bye."

"Wait, wait wait wait…!" Too late! Arien had already severed the connection. That woman didn't know when to stay on the phone; true, it usually worked to his advantage that she won't suddenly call at three in the morning to talk about her feelings, but at times like these she was incredibly dense. He sighed. Tseng was missing, so was Elena, and for all he knew they'd been super-secretive and hush-hush about _their_ own operations while he and Rude had been delegated to construction work. He kicked a piece of metal on the ground in frustration, then nearly howled in pain when the piece of metal proved to be far stronger than he was and refused to budge. Damn it. Was today 'let's all piss Reno off' day?

The following few hours had gotten steadily worse. For one thing, that Evan kid had driven by, and he remembered telling of the kid's gang to relay a message earlier that morning. It wasn't anything friendly: "you goddamn punk, you just watch out" or something like that, if he remembered correctly. Either way, it was a threat, with an unclear goal, but he suddenly remembered. In the midst of Tseng going AWOL and Arien's communication being touch-and-go, he had other things to worry about. He'd barely slept as well, which left him cranky and disgruntled. He wasn't the type to need _much_ sleep, but being forced to survive on two, three hours each day was seriously starting to take its toll. Even SOLDIERs didn't undergo this severe of a condition for prolonged periods of time. He felt fully justified to be in a bad mood.

"Did you see the car that just passed by?" Rude asked. Reno squashed the cigarette stub under his foot, looking, to Rude's eyes, rather unpleased. But nowadays he usually wore some expression of displeasure, so he wasn't entirely sure if it was because of Evan Townsend or the tuna sandwich he had for lunch. The redhead had plenty to complain about nowadays, and he wasn't exactly the shy type to make his opinions known.

"Yeah, Evan was on it," the redhead drawled. "After all we'd gone through so he could meet his bro… the prez's a piece of work too." He gestured vaguely with his hand. "If I heard there was a sibling somewhere out there that I didn't know about, I'd be seriously looking for the fucker."

But that was probably because he couldn't really hope for a sibling that was any worse than the one he had this very moment. Someday, if he met Luca again, one of them would die, and Reno had a good idea that it wouldn't be him that'd be sprawled onto the floor with brain matter oozing out of the head. To save his mother some tears, he had decided not to ever see his brother again. That, and he didn't really want to bother with killing Luca. It wasn't that he had moral qualms about it, but he just couldn't be arsed to.

"Perhaps."

"You really don't have any idea about family ties, do ya?" Reno asked, frowning. Not that _he_ knew about it, but truth be told, Reno didn't know about Rude's family. The man was almost mute, which didn't help. He knew about Elena's family - hell, he'd worked with his sister for a few years - and Arien's, and Rufus's, as messed up as his was, and nobody bothered to talk to Tseng about personal issues. But Rude… was his best friend, his partner, his foil, and still there were things that he had no idea about.

Well, it seemed to hit a sore spot. "Yes, well, I _am_ a cruel and heartless Turk," he spat out, then turned and began to walk toward the truck. The redhead knew he'd hit a sore spot; however, he also had the virtue of being able to apologise when he knew he had done a wrong. In truth, his earnestness and his honesty were the two things Arien loved him about the most. So he didn't have any difficulties going after Rude.

"Rude, are you mad?" he called after him. "All I have's you, man. Can't get in touch with Director or Elena, all Prez tells me to do is complete this goddamn memorial… I bet the three started something fun by themselves. And Arie's outta loop. We're being left out, man. You and me, me and you, what the fuck would we do without gettin' along?"

If Reno had expected Rude to nod and mend things, he didn't get it. Rude whirled, but instead of any friendly comments, Reno was interrogated. "What do you mean, you can't get in touch with the director?" He asked.

Reno shrugged. "Just got a call few days ago from DeVir. Said she can't get hold of Tseng, asked me if I knew anything. I knew jackshit so that's what I told her."

Arien was the information expert in the squad; her years in the Intelligence had given her training on analysis, decryption, and tracking on a level that the Turks were not trained to. So if she couldn't get hold of Tseng, nor knew his whereabouts, then no one really knew where he was. Was this good or bad? Rude wondered.

"Is she going to look for him?" Rude asked.

"She's trying to track him cyber, but the towers ain't what they used to be. Some areas are spotty."

Rude nodded, pensive. Their ultimate plan was to rebuild Shinra, and in part, Shinra's embodiment was Jenova, the ultimate hallmark of scientific achievement and the harbinger of all the crap that they had endured for the past few years. Why did he get a bad feeling about it?

The conversation ended there, and they did not talk to each other for a good two hours. Rude was silent to begin with, and Reno was busy coordinating the rebuilding efforts. For reasons obvious, he seemed to be attracting a lot of attention from women, although Reno's female coworkers would have testified that this was a mystery of the century. To Elena and Arien, Reno was just a guy who sometimes forgot to wear socks and would recycle underwear if he didn't have any clean ones and would have pizza boxes and beer bottles on the living room floor. But those who didn't know him didn't know about that, did they?

What he didn't expect, however, was for Evan's truck to return only a few hours later. He was driving slowly - well, the vehicle had no front window, after all - and stopped the car next to their tatty truck. Everyone looked at the blond kid. Rude also found Reno glaring at the kid; not the killer glare that he had when was on a dangerous mission, but more the kind that said 'I'm pissed at you, you fucking shit'. Very few people who saw Reno's killer face - Asura's eyes, as Wutaians called them - lived to tell the tale. They usually saw the face then died a few minutes later.

"Hey," said the kid, weakly.

"Didn't hear the message, did ya?"

"I did."

"Then why the hell are you-"

"I heard, so I came to apologise. It was my bad about yesterday. But brother told me to do that."

Reno stared at him, then he grinned.

"Thought so! Yeah, I knew something was off. Prez should have had a gun."

The kid was lying. Rude could just smell it. Everything about him screamed lies. Evan was touching his throat, as if the very words he was saying bothered him, and he was shuffling his feet. Was Reno ignoring the signs? But then again, the redhead had never been the type to quietly observe; that was more Arien's style. Reno was a doer.

"Anyway," said Evan, "I'm sorry I betrayed your trust. That's all I wanted to say." He jerked his head a little, and did his face look a little tense?

Well, if the kid was lying, Reno apparently seemed oblivious to it. "No worries, kid. And how was it, the first meeting between brothers?"

"Not sure how I feel about it yet." More feet shuffling. Definitely lying. Rude considered intervening, then decided against it. Reno could take care of himself, and besides, just what could the kid get them into? A minor scrape, maybe, but nothing on the scale of Zirconiade or Sephiroth, surely. And as long as the trouble wasn't _that_ big, the Turks dealt with it without a fuss.

"I see," Reno was saying. "Well, I suppose so. But go see him sometimes. That way you guys can get to know each other better."

"I'll do that once things settle down." He looked around. "Can I keep the car here?"

"Sure, we'll watch over it." Rude was alarmed at the 'we'. "But whatcha gonna do with a car? Don't need one in the Edge, do ya? Gonna go somewhere?"

"Yeah. I want to travel a bit."

"Are you gonna be okay? There're a few monsters out there."

"It's not gonna happen right now. I'm still prepping."

"Okay, then. But think about it before deciding, okay? I won't recommend it."

Rude remained silent while Evan thanked Reno and walked away toward the general direction of Seventh Heaven. He moved his neck to remove the cricks as he watched, and noticed Evan being oddly aware of him staring at the blond. Reno had gone back to the task at hand, humming slightly.

Was Reno really that gullible, or did he know of the attempted deception and just didn't care enough?

* * *

Reno was fighting with a piece of sheet metal; it wasn't quite fitting, and he finally gave up with a loud-mouthed cursed. There was a loud clanging noise.

"The size ain't right." He looked up, saw Rude checking out the back wheels of Evan's vehicle. "Whatcha doin'?"

"The wheel nut's lose Maybe we should tighten it."

_Huh, so Rude does care_, Reno thought to himself, but prudently kept his mouth shut about it. Instead he grabbed the wrench and walked over to where his buddy was crouching. "Wanna use it?" he asked, offering the tool.

"Yes," Rude replied, then took the wrench and began working on the nut.

"That's nice of you."

Rude shrugged. "I've noticed, that's all. If he dies because of this, then I would not be able to live with myself comfortably."

"True that."

"He-" Rude got up, and went around to the other side. Reno waited for the epiphany, found none coming, and got impatient.

"Hey, can you not stop your sentence mid-way?" Reno reminded, slightly annoyed.

"He's… precarious," was Rude's assessment.

"Wha?" Reno asked, but he knew what Rude meant. There were types who were cowards, yet sometimes did something major and surprised everyone else, until they ended up doing something far larger than what was within their capacity and getting killed, the reasons usually being silly. Young Turks, new SOLDIERs, Reno knew a bunch of people who had died like that.

"But being young's something like that, right? We had time like that."

Well, Reno probably did, when he believed being young, brash, and foolish would win the day. And Rude himself did too, once. It wasn't any memory he cherished.

"I forgot," he said shortly.

Reno cocked his head somewhat - oddly reminiscent of Arien DeVir - and mused. "That woman-"

"Kyrie?"

"Yeah. Kyrie might get Evan killed."

"Oh? Really? I thought so as well." Rude knew what Reno meant; there were thoughtless troublemakers who unwittingly drove men into bottomless pits and got them killed. For a man who was a coward but also rather self-conscious, this was a death equation.

"But, you know, you can't just well leave the prez's own brother to his own devices, can we?"

Rude shrugged, remained silent for a moment. "I'm fine with it. I don't want to deal with them anymore."

"Yeah. Doubt it." Reno pointed; Rude inadvertently looked, then regretted it. Sure enough, Kyrie came running towards them as fast as her relatively shorter legs could carry her. Of course, Reno also expected Rude to deal with it, for some reason that Rude couldn't figure out.

"You can deal with it." Rude had already begun to walk away.

"Oi!"

It was too late. Rude was already back at the memorial, and Kyrie was already bearing upon them. Or him.

"Hey, RenoRude."

"Don't join our names."

"Where did you hide Evan?" Kyrie demanded inexplicably. "Did you lock him up because he said no to the ringer thing? Or are you going to make him pay because he got violent?"

Reno was utterly baffled again. This girl had a constnat talent to astound him with her inane babble. ANd here he was, thinking that Arien was at times incomprehensible. He'd have to apologise to her. If he ever felt like it. Which he wouldn't.

"What the fuck are you going on about?" He finally managed.

"That's all I can think of, that the reason why Evan was acting weird is because there was something going on between hi and Shinra. Right?"

"He's behaving oddly?" Reno thought back to the last time he had seen Evan, but nothing came up in his mind.

"Evan's gone!" Kyrie shouted.

_How the fuck is that my fault?_

"He might be gone," Reno said slowly, "but he's probably gonna come back soon. That's Evan's car. We're keeping watch over it."

Inexplicably - again - Kyrie glared at the car as if the car was the culprit for Evan's disappearance. Then she yanked the door open and climbed in.

_This girl never does anything that makes sense to me And I thought __'Laney was crazy._

"Hey!" Reno shouted.

"I'm going to wait right here," said the girl. "And if he doesn't come back, I'm going to crash the car into the memorial."


	25. Female Misunderstandings

Bloodwitch Raven - Kyrie's supposed to be an innocent I thin. I didn't make the character, and the writer who _did_ make this character is not a good writer, so I'm not sure. That, or I might not be doing a good job portraying Kyrie... I have to admit, she's not exactly the type I have any empathy with.

We're about halfway with _Turks: The Kids Are Alright_. So that leaves another half, an AC before this is done.

Chapter 24: Female Misunderstandings

* * *

Arien closed the manual with a thump. The manual was big and rather unwieldy and definitely not something she'd read for eisure, but she had nothing else to read and she was bored. The volume was a psychological interrogation manual, which was not remarkable in itself, something that a first year intelligence trainee might read but definitely not something she'd need to read through. It detailed, in minutiae, the techniques as soft as Pride-and-Ego-Down to food deprivation to waterboarding. She wasn't particularly proud to say that she'd used quite a few of them in the past.

What was remarkable was that it was written by her father, apparently while she was away at the Academy. The man was good at reading people's minds and prying information, if he didn't make the best father she could wish for. It was undeniable that the man was complicated, and in comparison most people paled with their levels of various inexplicable actions. Reno was about as simple as one could get in comparison to Myers DeVir.

The phone rang, and she reached for it, checking the name. Reno. Probably just updates, but she hit the button anyway. "Hi," she said, rather uncharacteristically. She usually started with things like 'what?' and 'hm?' prompting Reno to talk and get over with the conversation quickly. She was, as Siva had pointed out once, awful at phone conversations, and couldn't be much more brusque even if she tried.

And Reno seemed to notice. "You okay?" he asked.

"Um, a little tired." Lies; she had a lot more on her mind, but she wasn't about to blurt it out. "You?"

"Well, remember the girl who was screaming when Evan Townsend was brought in?"

She thought about it for a moment. "Kyrie? I think her name was? Not the brightest bulb in the box? Kind of looks like a startled duck sometimes?"

"How the fuck do you know that?" he demanded, then remembered. "You saw her through the scope."

"Useful thing, my vision. Even if it gives me killer headaches."

"Yeah, well, she's sitting in the car we took right now, threatening to crash the goddamn thing into the tin can we've been building if Evan doesn't come back. Today's one shit day."

"I'm sorry." She re-crossed her legs. "She's probably scared, Reno. Cut her some slack."

"Scared? Scared of what?"

She sighed. Reno would not really understand the fear he - well, the Turks - inspired in others, partly because he had never feared the squad. And why should he? He had spent his teenage years as a gang member, and that was already scary enough for most; compared to some things he had done prior to joining the Investigation Sector, half the horror stories pertaining to the stuff the Turks did were nothing, because a lot of things they did overlapped. But she had been one of the 'civilians' once, and knew - instinctively - what others felt about the blackjackets. And it wasn't anything good.

"Reno," she said, "to quite a few people, we're nothing less than bogeymen who appear in the night and take their loved ones away. She's probably scared out of her mind."

"Huh." She could hear Reno's soft breaths. "Were _you_ scared?"

"No, but I was trained at the Academy, remember? I was handling guns before Reniel was kissing boys."

"Alright. Were the spy boys and girls scared?"

"A bit, I suppose. But the boys know you. The girls, I think, just sort of thought of you as a womaniser. Ivy knew me, so there was less of mystery, I guess. But for those outside the headquarters, you were this redheaded monster."

"Great."

"I'd also maintain that you're still a monster in bed, but I don't think anyone else needs to know that."

Reno laughed at that, a hiccoughy laugh like a cat's purr that was almost like a caress to her. It was odd, how people defined others by the scant information they had and framed them into some cookie-cutter characters that they knew: hero, villain, bogeyman, damsel. People were much more complicated than that, showing one face at one time and something else entirely at another, making it quite easy for one person to be a hero and a villain and a victim and a rescuer all at once. But the farther they were from the person, more one-dimensional the person became to them, until they were written off with just a line. Most would never know Reno as a friend, and if she had her way no one else would know him as a lover. She'd never know him as a subordinate, and Tseng would never know him as a boss. But he was all, and more: he saved people's lives and killed people without remorse, he hated Wednesdays and liked his shower scalding hot, he got headaches from smells and didn't like rare steaks.

"She's a bit like Aeris Gainsborough, isn't she?" Arien said.

"Oh?" Reno remembered the last Cetra; innocent, simple, and pure, she had never really _piqued_ his interest. Sure, he found her inviolate, and to be protected and all that shebang, but she wasn't interesting. Once you got to know that type, they were fairly predictable in certain aspects, and that put them in the 'not very interesting' category for Reno. Amusing to watch, sure, but that was it. "In what way?" he asked. Arien wasn't Myers' daughter for nothing, and she at times observed details that proved to be extremely useful later, things that he didn't notice. It didn't hurt to ask.

"She's not very worldly, is she?" the woman said. "Her head's up in the clouds. I suppose pure? Or innocent. She doesn't really understand what's going on."

What she meant was, that type didn't know that certain things couldn't be helped and no matter how hard you tried, shit happened anyway. That sort of thing gave one a very jaded outlook on life, and jaded was the one term that didn't apply to Aeris or Kyrie. It also applied to Reno and Arien in abundance; if they were any more jaded they'd be bright green. It was a loss of innocence that didn't necessarily happen with time but rather with experience. Kyrie was the type to truly believe that good things happened as long as you hoped for it. But they knew better.

He had never 'grown up'. Kyrie was yet an innocent. Who was grown up, then?

"Just… go easy on her," Arien was saying. "We… didn't exactly do people a whole lot of favours. Maybe helping people like that-"

"Like what?"

"Like Aeris or Kyrie. Maybe helping them would be.. A sort of reparation for what we did. At least it won't hurt."

"Arien," Reno said, seriously, "that type is going to get Evan's type killed."

Another sigh, this time resolute. A moment of thought. "I know," she finally replied. "Evan's the type to put up fronts, try to look bigger than he actually is. I guess he's young. And Kyrie'd believe that facade and push him. Which is why you need to watch over the two."

"Why me?" Reno griped.

"We've all been there. And we've all had people look over us and tell us not to be idiots. It's your turn."

Reno hang up after that. He remembered the person who had told him not to be an idiot; he was dead now, but he still remembered the man. His first mentor. The first one to die because of him. It had left a scar, physically and perhaps emotionally, an echoing reminder of the guilt that he carried, the first but certainly not the last. He absently rubbed his shoulder, where there was a small whorl of tissue, still discoloured even after the years. That scar was part of the reason why Reno favoured his feet over his hands. He had a gut feeling Darren Blake, Arien's former partner, superior, and boyfriend, had been the mentor for her; his death had shaped her into the woman he had met on that fateful day on Floor 66, that woman with no expression and a demonic concentration that refused to be distracted. They all had people like that - Elena's was one of the ex-Turks, Tseng's was Veld, and Rude was someone from SOLDIER - that had calmed them down, made them face reality, and admit that they weren't Sephiroth. It hurt to admit, but it was the truth.

* * *

Reno was smoking a cigarette when Kyrie opened the car door and stepped out. Slammed the door open was more like it. She was a chirpy girl, full of energy, not the pent-up, wound-up-tight energy that Arien had, nor the hyper-active tenseness that Elena had, but just the happy energy that people who didn't have daytime nightmares often had in abundance. He spun to see the girl stretch, throwing her arms in the air, then wondered why she could be so carefree in the age which had more tragedies than happiness. Was it her youth? She seemed curiously impervious to all the misery around her.

"Hey Reno!" she called out. "I'm getting hungry."

He narrowed his eyes ever so slightly. Kyrie did not notice. "What?" he asked.

"I'm hungry, so I need to get something to eat." She yawned. "Can you watch over the car while I'm gone? And tell Evan I'm waiting for him?"

He shrugged. "Sure."

"Thanks." She closed the car door with some bounce in her movements.

"Ya know, if you want you can go home. I'll tell Evan to go to your place when he gets back."

"No. Evan won't come."

He found the situation oddly comical. Why was he getting involved in what appeared to be two young 'uns fighting? As he watched Kyrie walk away - those bouncy steps really spoke of all the energy eighteen-year-olds had that suddenly disappeared by the age twenty - he snorted then began to chuckle. The entire situation struck him as a little ridiculous. Rude noticed, and asked what was going on. Reno found the fact that Rude, despite his 'I don't give a damn' air, evidently cared about the situation adding to the ridiculousness. He began to laugh in earnest.

"She went to grab a bite. Told me she's hungry."

"I find it poignant that she thinks we're that easy."

"Yeah, well, 'Lovable Shinra', right Rude?" Reno laughed again, but remembered Kyrie's arms and what Arien had said, thought that her claims might be true. Her arms had been covered in goosebumps; despite all the face the girl maintained, she was terrified of the Turks, more so than Evan. She probably was smarter than the kid in that sense. She was testing waters, throwing words stronger than what she could back up with at them, watching their reactions. Well, she hadn't grown up in the slums for nothing. The place taught you survival skills like nowhere else.

"Hey partner," Rude said gruffly, "she reminds me of Aeris."

_Well, she did the same to Arien. Why do these things fly over my head until someone points it out?_

"That's what I've been thinkin'," Reno said.

_If cooperating with them__'d at least be some kind of… what was it she said? Oh, 'atonement'. _

But for some reason he doubted such atonements could be completed. All he could do was hope that everything he did would be even remotely close to being enough.

* * *

Tseng came back, Elena in tow, about an hour after Reno got off the phone. He had walked in the front door, nodded to Arien who was keeping a silent vigil, then asked how Rufus was doing.

"He's sleeping," Arien reported. "Ate about three-quarters of a meal. I think he's still a bit tired."

Tseng nodded. Rufus Shinra's Geostigma was neither in recovery nor in progression. It was causing him some trouble at times, but it wasn't getting worse or better. Elena had disappeared down the corridor; Arien didn't know what Tseng and Elena were up to, but habit kept her from asking. He'd let her know if he thought she needed to know. And if she didn't need to know, it was better off for her not knowing. Life was just easier that way.

"I'll hold down the fort for today," Tseng said. "You're relieved of duty until the next shift."

That was Tseng's way of saying 'get out, I need some privacy'. With whom she didn't know, but she obeyed. Not exactly because she was obedient, but rather because she was dying to leave and get back to her own place. And get out of the uniform.

Of course, that was a no-go. About midway back to the Edge she got a call from Siva. She fumbled for her phone from her pocket while turning the wheel, fishing it out as she avoided crashing into a jutting rock. She put Siva on speaker so she could talk hands-free. "Siva?" she asked.

"Hi. Can you come around today? I need to talk to you."

A monster howled some distance away, a little too close to where she was for her comfort. She turned left, and apparently Siva had heard the howl. "Where are you?" she asked.

"Badlands. Driving."

"Oh. Well, can you come around?"

"Um." She righted her course again. "All-right. I'll drop the car off then go straight to your place. I'm going to be in uniform."

"That's fine."

"Is it just going to be us or are there going to be others?"

"Just us." She heard a door slam from the phone. "This is important, Arien. For me. Please be there."

"I will."

The rest of the drive was peaceful. She parked the car near her place, then didn't even bother going into her own home; rather, she just got out of the vehicle, then began walking to Siva's. She was too tired to care when people looked at her with fear, aware of it but paying it no attention. She was used to it now, and knew she couldn't do anything about it.

Siva answered the door as soon as Arien knocked. She told her friend to come in, then offered her a beverage, then urged her to sit down. She gave no moment for Arien to compose herself before she started.

"So…" she elongated the _o_. "I need to ask you a favour."

Arien arched an eyebrow, cupping the mug with her hands.

"Do you know the company FertiGen?" Siva asked. "It used to be a Shinra subsidiary. It's a company dealing with fertility and that sort of stuff."

What Arien also knew - and Siva didn't, since the information was so classified even the name wasn't its proper name - was that FertiGen, or BioGenTech as listed in the classified files, was not only a subsidiary of the Shinra, but also a company that was directly linked to Professor Hojo's scientific research department. Not only did BioGenTech deal with fertility, but it also worked with gene manipulation of illegal varieties, illicit biological research, and the development of biological warfare that made the mutant strain of _enterobacterium _that had nearly wiped out half the population some century ago look like the common cold. Reno and she had gone out to take care of its mess once and had found that the entire village had been turned into a highly virulent kind of zombies that was also extremely violent and aggressive.

"Um," Arien said. "Yes?"

"Anyway, I've been thinking about this for some time, but…" Siva sipped her drink. "You see, I kind of have been wanting to start a family with Axil for some time now, but now there's a possibility of that maybe not happening with, you know, my condition, so I decided to do something."

Arien waited.

"I've decided to freeze my eggs."

Arien's first thought was that Siva was talking about chicken eggs, but she quickly dismissed the notion. "Okay?" She asked. "And?"

"If I recover, that's wonderful, no need for the frozen eggs. But if I don't" - she held her hands up when Arien tried to interrupt - "let me continue. If I don't, I want Axil to have the option to, you know…"

"I know."

"Okay. And well, I can't tell him I froze my eggs, but I need someone to tell him if something bad happens. So!" She pulled out an envelope. "I need you to give this to Reno."

"What is this?"

"It's the papers regarding my ova. You know, to decide what to do with them. I need Reno to give it to Axil when it's the right time."

"Why Reno?" Arien asked curiously.

"Because I'm not sure when the right time is for Axil. Reno and Shivvalan know him best, and I can't give this to Shiv, because he's not like Axil at all. Reno'd have the best guess when Axil would want to see these."

"You do realise that if I give these papers to Reno, then he'd end up knowing that you have Geostigma, right?"

"Oh." Siva stopped. "I hadn't thought of that." She looked at her friend. "Well, you have my permission to tell Reno, but I'm not sure if you'd want to. Are you okay with telling him?"

And what was she supposed to say to that? 'No, I'm not okay, give this to Felicita instead'? Arien knew Siva had thought about this before summoning her, and so all she could do was nod. Just because she told Reno about Siva didn't mean she'd have to tell him about herself, right?

So she did end up telling Reno about Siva's condition - which Reno wasn't happy about at all - and giving him the envelope. But she didn't mention about herself, nor the reason why Siva was confiding in her when the ginger was closer to Felicita.

In hindsight, this proved to be a very stupid decision.


	26. Paybacks

BOY am I late for this chapter! Applications and exams have temporarily disengaged my sleeping habits, and I'm a walking zombie at the moment. But here it is.

Chapter 25: Paybacks

* * *

Reno was dismayed when Doyle - one of the folks who had previously flatly refused to help out with the memorial - approached him that afternoon. He was even more surprised when Doyle did not renege on the promise but reminded him that he, along with Keeo and Slop will be joining the efforts. And then Rude came back and told him that Tseng had told the bald man to fix the chopper.

"I'm going up to Midgar," Rude said as he returned the phone back to his chest pocket. Reno looked up at the jagged lines in the distance.

"Midgar? The chopper?" he reiterated.

"Chief and Elena are here," Rude explained, which wasn't much of an explanation at all, then shrugged when he saw Reno arch an eyebrow.

"What're they gonna do with the chopper?"

"No idea."

"What, we're left out _again_? What about DeVir?"

Rude never really figured out why Reno did not call her by her name while on the job. She was usually DeVir while Reno was in the suit. Professionalism? Perhaps; or perhaps he wanted to distance himself from her to keep himself from getting too involved as an agent. The bald man was well aware of the deep feelings the redhead had for her, the kind that was too complicated for anyone to sort out, but it always struck him as a little odd. Especially because no one would question Reno's professionalism after the exodus from the Shinra Tower. He had _left_ the woman, broken and near death, and had gone to rescue Rufus Shinra instead. Not many agents could do that. Hell, Veld couldn't do that.

"She's with Rufus. Either way, I have to go."

"Wait." Reno followed after Rude, who had already started walking. "I'm comin' too."

The trek up was quick, with Rude keeping the pace with him. Some of the roads were hopelessly damaged, again reminding both that the old Shinra days were definitely over. If there had been a twinge of guilt before, they had gotten so used to it that they no longer noticed. As Arien had said, you really got used to anything.

Tseng's orders were to fix the chopper, and be quick about it. Rude was the mechanic of the team, not Reno, so the bald man got to it right away while Reno touched bases with Arien back in Healin. She didn't have much to report, except to tell Tseng that she got back from Ellen and Delara. About what, she didn't say.

"Hey Boss," Reno said when he got off the phone, "DeVir asked me to tell you that she got back from Ellen and Delara."

"Thank you." Reno waited for more explanations, but none came. Again. What was it with Tseng and Elena nowadays? They acted as if they had the world's secrets up their sleeves. He might try to pry it out of Arien, but she wasn't the kind to divulge information and he didn't want to risk it. She was trained to get information out of people, and therefore knew how to block those attempts. It wasn't worth it.

Thirty minutes later Rude was wiping his hands on the cloth and was reporting that chopper 1 was ready to go. Tseng asked when chopper 2 would be functional, but the bald man could give no certain date. The starter mechanism was faulty, he said, and so he'd have to take it apart. That could take three hours or three days.

"Better hurry," the Wutaian man said, grinning a little. "When you can get in the air… that depends on Rude."

"Where the hell are we goin', flyin'? Whatcha hiding, Chief?"

"We're going to look for JENOVA."

Rude and Reno looked at each other, surprise on their faces. So _that_ was what they were hiding? Of course, Arien would have known; she pretty much knew everything that went on amongst the Turks and then some, being the information analyst for the squad. But this… this was not something they had been expecting.

"That's one heckuva job."

"First, Elena and I will go and visit the others; they've all spread out. I've asked them to collect information."

Elena looked away.

"Let, let us do that too. That's what the Turks do, after all, right? Investigation Sector of the General Administrative Department!"

"What about the memorial?" Tseng reminded.

"It'll be done in three days!"

Rude was a little less optimistic. "No, it'll take five," he corrected, slightly stunting the redhead's enthusiasm. But it wasn't completely curbed.

"I'll try to finish it in four!"

Tseng nodded; dark hair shook about his shoulders. He was a quiet man, but his eyes told the redhead that he was appreciative of his efforts. "Very well," he said. "Join in as soon as it's done."

"Awright! Let's go, partner." And then he was off. Like a small boy. But Tseng could not fault Reno with his enthusiasm; the man wasn't made to work on building projects, and he was well aware of it. Reno and Rude lived for excitement as much as Arien lived for puzzles. He must have been bored out of his mind, trying to do a project he had absolutely no interest in.

"Chief," Rude whispered as he watched Reno run off, "what's… what's the president going to do with JENOVA?"

"The ownership belongs to Shinra. And the right to destroy it, as well."

"True." Rude threw the starter into the air and caught it. Elena, Rude, and Tseng were all surprised when Reno came running back through the doorway to the warehouse, apparently watching out for his back. Or something. He kept turning his head, as if someone was behind them. And then got unnaturally close to report whatever he had found.

"Not good," he whispered. "The stuff we were talking about right now? Someone heard it."

"How do you know?"

Reno glanced at Elena. "Heard footsteps. Runnin' away."

"What do we do, sir?"

Tseng eyed Elena warily. Was she excited? She was, indeed; she was the only one of the group that had wanted to join the Turks, and whatever Turks-y stuff that came up on the to-do list, she got very excited about. So different from Reno, who didn't care whether it was Turks-y or not. They belonged to the same cut of cloth - on the hyper side, a bit rash - but that was where they differed.

"Elena, go search for them. Return if you search for an hour and cannot find him."

"And what if I do find him or her? Do I?"

She probably meant kill or beat up, but he wanted neither. "Bring him in. I'll listen to his story and then decide."

"Yes sir…" the trail-off was a clear sign that she wasn't please, but she went anyway in a jog. Tseng turned back to the other two when she went out the exit.

"As soon as Elena returns, we will take to the air. Rude, keep watch on chopper two."

"Understood. I'll move it as soon as the repair's completed."

"That is a good idea. Reno, your task is the memorial."

"All-right, all-right!" he groused.

* * *

Rufus Shinra watched his subordinate, silently, but meticulously. There was something odd about her these past few days, and he was wondering what. Normally he'd have doubted pregnancy, but he was well aware of the reproductive shortcomings his Turks had. There would be no small Ariens running around, Reno or otherwise. He was slightly concerned with her odd behaviour, but he knew that she'd put up that guard of hers as soon as he told her of it. So he simply remained observant behind the cloth.

Out of his Turks, Arien remained the mystery. Oh, he did not doubt her loyalty - after all, she had foiled the plan to remove him from his presidency at the risk of her life - but she was almost mechanical in her dealings with the business. Were Wutaians this closeted with their emotions? Rude would occasionally comment, or smile; Elena was an open book, and one could usually tell when Reno was not pleased, but Arien showed nothing. Her face was a porcelain mask.

But the mask was cracking now, he could see it, and he did not know why. Of course, since she was merely a Turk - his 'arm', so to speak - he didn't really see the need to understand her that badly. There was a curiosity, yes; but it wasn't a necessity. But there was a difference, that much was undeniable, a slight shift of her head perhaps, or her expression. What was it?

He lost the train of thought as he heard a knock. He looked at the entryway, wondering who the visitor was; the members had keys to the front door. He glanced at Arien, who narrowed her eyes. He was unarmed, now that he had given his firearm to Kyrie Kanan. He saw her hand dive into her jacket, then the other, looking as if she was crossing her arms, but he knew better.

A loud knock again. She nodded once, her face composed, and Rufus pressed the button on the remote to open the door. The door unlocked.

"It's unlocked," Arien called out.

A metallic rattle as someone opened the doorway; there was a moment of silence, of immobility, as the intruder and Arien stared at each other.

Rufus merely wheeled himself a little behind the woman as She dropped down to her knees; out came her pistols, its dull metallic gleam subdues as she yanked them out. The first round expelled was, surprisingly, from the Glock, despite the intruder having the offence first.

Rufus watched, untouched, as the woman squeezed the trigger. The semiautomatics regurgitated pieces of metal as the fingers flexed; more men came, rushing in, only to be shot down. One hand snapped onto her hip as she reloaded her Sig, then more bullets flew.

The fight was short, and almost entirely one-sided. They were ordinary people, and the Turks had been in many gunfights before, especially this one, whose own primary weapons were firearms. There were meaty thuds as the men fell, unable to make attacks of their own. Shoot them before they open fire seemed to be Arien's strategy, and it was working well.

She finally holstered when silence came upon them, got up to her feet, and walked over to the doorway. "Well?" Rufus asked, bothered by what he had just seen when Arien had shot down the last man. "Who were they?"

She turned the body over, feeling it down. "I'm not sure, sir," she said. "They aren't former Shinra employees." Anyone who had undergone combat training under Shinra carried a six inch knife on the belt; a last resort, so to speak, although it saw far more use cutting up chickens and slicing bread than combat. These men didn't carry that trademark weapon. She stood up, and pointed to one of the jackets. "It's not Shinra, sir. This man" - she pointed - "was probably from Gongaga, but that one" - she pointed to another, lying next to the body she was just discussing - "is from Junon."

Rufus nodded.

"Either way, I'll report this to others." The thin phone came out, and Arien touched the screen briefly. From the way she spoke, it must have been Tseng. Rufus cradled his chin with his right hand, watching her. One of the Turks were bound to come back tonight, but Arien would most likely get rid of the bodies before then, unless Tseng countermanded. As he watched, Arien nodded to no one in particular. The Wutaians had a curious habit of gesturing while on the phone, as if the other person could see them. He'd seen Tseng nodding and gesturing too. It was odd.

"Yes, sir," she was saying as she bobbed her head. "Gongaga, I think. No, the weave. The weapons? Erm…" she picked one up, checking. "I'd have to run a check, but it's probably from the black market. Corneo's, perhaps? The serial's scratched out. We might be able to trace it, but it'll take some time. Erm, Yolanda's, unless Corneo got them from another route, but that seems unlikely. Yes, I can." Another nod. "All-right. Understood." Without a farewell, she severed the connection, then turned around, picking up the firearms and carrying them in as she went, taking photographs with her phone. Probably to keep track of who had what. When that was done, she forced the door closed, then disappeared into one of the rooms, coming back with a roll of vinyl sheet. He watched from the folds of the cloth as she opened the door again, spread the vinyl sheet out, and began hauling one of the bodies onto it.

Such a careful girl.

She dragged the body down the steps, huffing and puffing along the way. For Rude, this would have been easy work, but for Arien DeVir, who was possibly the physically weakest of the group, this was hard work. She came back up seven more times, hauling the bodies down, probably to the back of the cabin, then came back with a long hose and the rolled - and now bloody - vinyl sheet, and began hosing down the steps. The water gushed, washing away the blood, until there was no trace of it left. She was meticulous, hosing for a good fifteen minutes.

She acted as if nothing had happened after that, and Rufus did not ask. Instead, he spent his time in thought, trying to put the pieces together. He wondered if Reno knew, then doubted it; the redhead was acting as if nothing was amiss, and he wasn't controlled enough to not show any signs if he knew. No, the redhead didn't know, which meant she hadn't told him. For whatever reason.

He grimaced, remembering the black smear on the pale skin of the nape of the neck when Arien had moved her head as she gunned the men down; something that was not a shadow, but darker, like a black birthmark.

Rufus looked at the back of his hand, and sighed deeply.

* * *

When Reno returned, that night, it was already late, and Arien was asleep. Reno crawled into bed, smelling the familiar scent rise from the bed as his body weight made the mattress sink in. Her dark hair was spread onto the sheets, and she cradled her head with her arm like a small child crying herself to sleep. She always slept like that, and he sneaked his arms around her waist, burying his face into the nape of her neck. He pressed his mouth into the skin, hearing the soft breaths, feeling the warmth, the heartbeat, gathering her into his arms. She mumbled his name, rubbed her face into the pillow, but did not wake up.

He lay there, thinking. Would they be able to rebuild Shinra? Perhaps, perhaps not; it'd require careful manoeuvring, something he wasn't that good at. He was good at killing people, yes, and forceful kidnapping, but talking ways out and in were more Arien's style, not his. But he desperately wanted the old glory days back; without realising, he had come to define himself as a Turk first, human second. The squad was almost everything for him, and he laughed softly to himself, realising that it would have been 'entirely' and not 'almost' if Arien hadn't come into his life. Now, there was a grain of self-identity kept away from the entity called the Turks, hidden deeply in Arien's being. He had built a place of belonging with nothing but air, just the idea of the Investigation Sector, but Arien was the mortar. With her silent support, her trust, and her love for him - and he knew she loved him with all her being, even though she had only said it once or twice - he had come to realise that he wasn't just a killing machine. He was a person, and someone would weep if he died. That made all the more incentive to survive.

He gently touched her hair. The hair had been longer before Arien had been kidnapped, but it was growing back, and he liked the silky feel of it against his fingers. She had been tortured, Ivy had said, to make her divulge Shinra's secrets, but Arien had kept her mouth shut through pain and humiliation to protect the company - and by extension, him. She was missing teeth now, because she had not talked. She sometimes winced as she chewed. Scars were left behind with every torture they received, and Arien's was no exception.

_I don__'t think I'm worth your pain, Arie._

But regardless of what he thought of himself, she saw him that way anyway, and he wanted her even more for that. He wasn't sure if he loved her. Aren't love altruistic and giving? If it was, he was torn between the desire to protect her and the desire to destroy her being, and so he wasn't decided enough to call this love. But he wanted her, and he wanted her to be his. Was that love?

How was he to know?

He remembered Angelica, wondered what she was doing right now. What a different life the woman led from Arien; they both loved him (or so he thought), and they had both seen the darkness, but one was calmly sleeping, and the other… what was she doing now? Was she fucking another man to earn some cash, perhaps? He winced, recalling her words that she had continued to prostitute for him. How that all tied into one neat bundle, he had no idea. But for some reason, it bothered him, that there was another woman out there sacrificing herself for his sake. He didn't like debts, and this seemed like a debt, even though he hadn't gotten anything out of it. But what the hell was he supposed to do?

He considered telling Arien about meeting Angelica again, but sleep claimed him before he came to a conclusion, and by the time he had woken up the next morning, all the rush had erased the thoughts of her from his head. He really should have told her, but he had forgotten, and Arien didn't ask why he seemed out of sorts.

He really, really should have told her.


	27. Secret Out

So the much-deserved break is finally here, and I'm back. I'm also working on my other fics (like Dragon Age, and Dragon Age, and Dragon Age). Anyway, the big reveal!

Bloodwitch Raven - You'll see... this does have the rest of the plot to get through, and it's going to get a lot more action once the trio starts playing a larger role. Angelica IS going to be a nuisance, but then again, Reno has quite a colourful past.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - After two weeks, here it is! The next chapter. The next chapter's halfway finished (and has been since September), so hopefully I can get that rolled out this Friday.

Chapter 26: Secret Out

* * *

Two days passed, him mostly taking care of the construction work and Arien doing… well, Reno wasn't sure what she was doing. Needless to say, he didn't see her often, but when he did, she was her usual self. So he had no idea he was in for a big surprise when he went to bed that night.

The evening had ended without any incident. He had come home, ranted a little, eaten dinner, taken a shower, and had crawled into bed. Arien was already asleep, her face still patterns and silhouettes of black and white. Her lashes were long, casting spidery shadows onto her cheeks in the soft light. Her cheekbones looked sharp, but then again, she always had sharp angles. He observed her sleeping face. Usually women were animated when they were awake, allowing men to see their still faces only when they were asleep. Not so with Arien; it was rare to see her facial expressions animated. Her face was still, her breaths even. She was like a sculpture, her face frozen in space and time, and he was reminded of an ancient myth of a man who fell in love with a statue and by some bizarre gimmick the statue had come to life. Except he had no illusions about her; he knew that she had a temper, and that she was anal-retentive sometimes, and that she was stubborn as hell sometimes. But she was a hell of a good fit for him, wasn't she?

He gathered her into his arms, feeling her body against his own; she made a soft mewling sound like a cat, but did not wake up. Where he had hardness from muscles, she had softness only women's bodies had, like a soft layer between bone and his skin. He could feel her bones slightly in places - her shoulders, for instance, and her hipbones jutted out a little, much to his dismay - but then he reminded himself that he hadn't slept with her because she looked cuddly. She had a beautiful body to look upon, tall, slender, long limbs, but it wasn't something men preferred to feel against their arms.

She nestled within the confines of his arms, her hair a dark tangle on the pillow. He kissed her on the nape of her neck, smelling the soft scent of her shampoo. He was slowly making his way to the land of slumber, gathering her into his arms again, when he felt Arien toss against his arms. He opened his eyes just a little, and saw her move her head as she was in pain; her brows were furrowed, and she moaned softly, but she still did not wake up.

A bad dream? He wondered. The Turks all had those, and it had become a habit for both Reno and Arien to wake each other up when they noticed. But this didn't look like it. What was going on, then? He reached over to wake her up when his fingers brushed against her neck. It came away wet.

Blood?

He rubbed it between his fingers, then turned the light on and squinted at it. It was black; for a moment he thought it was blood, but it was not. Rather, it was less sticky, but more viscous, and smelled metallic, but not like blood; he knew the smell of blood well, and this wasn't it. It smelled less organic, for one. And it didn't dry to stickiness like blood did.

He turned, and saw Arien's pillow. It had black stains, fresh and still glistening wetly in the soft light. That blew away any hint of sleepiness that lingered behind his eyes, and he could no longer fall asleep. He could no longer stay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Not with her warmth so close to him, her scent in his nostrils. He needed to think. By himself. Alone.

He got out of bed, and went to the living room. There, he sat, alone, in the darkness, until the white dawn came.

* * *

When Arien woke up the next morning, she discovered that she had been sleeping alone. The space next to her was empty, and the pillow no longer held the indentation to indicate that someone had occupied the bed. She frowned, wondering what had happened. Reno was a late sleeper, later than her, which was saying something, as she generally spent her off-days lounging around in bed. Where was he?

She got up, stretching, then padded out of the bedroom to find the redhead on the sofa. A glance at his face told her that he hadn't slept, or if he had, it hadn't been for long. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he looked… well, she didn't know how to describe the expression on his face. His general 'look' didn't include this particular one, which she could only term as despair. But Renaldo Miller never looked desperate. Despair involved introspection, of which Reno almost never did. It involved a pessimistic assessment of the current situation and a decision that making things better would be impossible. Reno, for better or for worse, never thought that he was at its worst.

She sat down next to him. Her legs looked much softer next to his, almost fleshy compared to his musculature. "Reno?" She asked softly, her voice barely audible.

He looked at her morosely. "Why didn't you tell me?" he murmured.

She remained silent. Truth be told, she didn't know the reason herself. Fear, mostly, fear that if she said it out loud, it'd really become true, instead of just a 'physician's hypothesis' in her head. She knew she was in denial, but she was secretly terrified; she was scared of dying, of leaving Reno alone, of depriving him the chance to have a happy ending… because despite all the crap that they had done, despite everything that they had committed, she knew, deep down, that he still sought the happily ever after. Oh, he was well aware that he didn't deserve it, he knew that it probably won't happen to him, but one could always hope. And if it was within her power to give it to him, she would do anything.

Reno had many faults. Deception, betrayal, and many people's bloods were on his hands. But despite this - and perhaps because of it - Reno still tried. He had grown up in a dysfunctional family, and had left at fifteen, never knowing what it was like to spend Yule without fear. He had told her - the first Yule they had together - that this was the first time in his life he had been relaxed and cheerful during the holiday season. Before, as an agent, he had been undercover, or working, or drinking himself to stupor.

He wanted happiness. And she would die for him. So why was this happening now?

"Can't tell me, huh?" He murmured. "What else are you hidin'?"

That felt like a physical blow, and she visibly flinched. "Nothing that I can think of," she whispered, her voice almost inaudible. "Reno-"

"No. You're done lying."

"I'm not lying."

"Then why didn't you tell me!" He shouted. "Is it 'cause I'm not trustworthy? What is it, Arie? Fess up, because I'm finding it hard to trust you right now."

"Then what's the point? You won't trust me anywa-" she shut up, seeing his aquamarine eyes tense. Not blazing, like when he was on a case, but they were tense. And filled with bitterness. Because… well…

_Yet another person who lied to me,_ his eyes said. _God, why do I do this to myself?_

He stood up. "We're done," he said, and began walking away. Like he did, the first night they spent together. Why was he always leaving her without listening? Why was he always the one to abandon ship first?

She reached out for his hand, grabbed it before he went too far away. "Reno," she moaned, "please… don't do this."

"Well, you really made it an easy choice to make."

And then she could not take it anymore. The days of spending the hours in fear, going to sleep afraid that she won't wake up, the hiding, the smiling, fighting with herself so she won't blurt it out… everything came rushing to her, and with it came the tears. Maybe she could bear the pain of letting him go - maybe - but it was a big maybe.

God, loving someone hurt.

The tears welled and rolled down as she held onto his hand as if she was on a sinking ship, and in a way, she was. She couldn't stand up - her legs refused to cooperate - so she remained on the floor, crying. Reno stood, speechless. Arien was weeping, holding onto his right hand as if that was her lifeline, a miserable, pathetic scene that really shouldn't have happened to such a proud woman. And if Arien was anything, she was proud. But here she was, on the floor, crying her eyes out, her sobs wracking her body so much she could not do much else.

What he should have done - what he wanted to do - was to sit down next to her, take her into his arms, kiss her, tell her that it was going to be all-right. But the betrayal cut deep, even though she hadn't meant to, and the fact was, he didn't know if everything was going to be all-right. So what the hell was he supposed to do? He stood, dumbly, not knowing the correct course of action. And still she cried.

"I couldn't!" she finally blurted out, once her wracking sobs calmed down a little and she could speak. "I couldn't tell you! I was scared out of my mind, Reno! If I said it out loud, then it'd be the truth, not this idea in my head! I couldn't face it, I just couldn't-" she sniffed. "I was terrified. We just overcame one obstacle… I was in a hospital for months! And we're finally back together, and then this? I didn't want this to be the truth. I didn't want this to be the reality! I wanted, I wanted-"

"What _did_ you want?"

"I wanted… I wanted a happy life." She cried. "I know I don't deserve it, I sure as hell don't, but after living with you… I just want it! I want to be with you! I wanted to, at the end of the day, wait for you to come home, and smile, and be with you. I wanted a happy life with you. I know, it's not really realistic, but I can dream too, can't I? That this story won't end in me crying and you hurt? Because I've never had anyone like you in my life. I was terrified of this. You have so much power over me, Reno. I love you so much I'd die for you and without regret and I couldn't tell you that because it sounds crazy! But I would, and everyday when you come home and just relax and have that look on your face… I'd do anything to keep that happening. Even if it means killing myself."

He sat down. This was an outburst he wasn't expecting. "So, um," he said, "what were you gonna do if it got to the, you know…"

"I don't know. Leave? Die somewhere quietly in a ditch, I suppose. You'll probably get angry with me for disappearing one day, but I thought it'd be easier for you to get over me if you were angry at me and not mourning."

He stared at her incredulously. She thought - or perhaps felt - that this was already a losing battle? And she had planned, because of her ultra type A personality, her death as well, and had considered the best way for _him to get over her_?! He wanted to laugh, this was so ludicrous. There was no getting over her. Not now. He had invested too much, felt far too much for her to just erase those memories away. Sure, the time they'd been together hadn't been that long, but the intensity of these past few years was a little unnerving.

But then again, she was an intense person, intense in her determination, her dedication, and her complete lack of disregard for anything else but achieving her goal. And with all the energy she had spent on achieving her goals, she now spent it on him. He wasn't sure if this was a privilege or some insanity. But he couldn't deny it; she _would_ die for him without a second thought. Quietly, even, so he won't notice, probably. And would feel satisfied if he raged at her for disappearing.

God, this woman drove him nuts sometimes.

"You should've told me," he said. "Should've told me anyway. Now I don't know what to believe."

"Believe what you want," said his girlfriend carelessly. "If you want me dead, just say so."

Aaaaaand she was mistaking him again. Sure, he was angry at her, but that didn't mean he wanted her dead; in fact, he didn't even want her gone. He was just pissed off, but now that he knew the reason, he couldn't exactly stay angry at her. How could he?

Her dark hair fell in loose strands about her; she'd stopped crying now, her eyes resolute, accepting whatever he would decide. Her expression was dead. Well, deader than before. She generally showed very little of what went on in her mind. She looked fragile, thin, about to crumble down into a heap of bones and skin. He realised that she had been thin, but now her frame looked smaller, her wrists thinner, her face paler. Tell-tale signs of sickness. So how had he missed it?

Because he hadn't been watching. And Arien hadn't told him, not wanting to bother him, probably. She had deigned herself to die quietly in a ditch, because she didn't think of herself as worthy of his worries, perhaps. Self-denial and mockery were their two favourite pastimes, and Arien did the self-flagellation really well. But it wasn't something he would have really recommended practising.

"Arie."

She raised her face, her eyes startlingly blue. Cold. Like ice, he thought, without warmth, as if she had already died. She looked empty, defeated, and he realised that this was her true face that she had hidden away from him all this time. She had yearned, and had deigned herself as unworthy. Sandwiched between desire and self-berating, she had given up, not really wanting to face the reality and fight for it.

But he'd be damned if he'd let her just surrender like that.

She stood up and walked out of the room without any warning. It was a simple movement, still tensely graceful, as she stood up and strode away, her dark hair swinging. He chased after her, grabbing her arms.

"Don't you fuckin' give up," he snapped. "Don't you give up."

"What, you forbid it now?"

"Yeah, I do." His gaze was intense, his aquamarine eyes sharp. No Cheshire grin on his face now; he was dead serious, the raw face of Renaldo Miller, the face he had always hidden under the game face. But he had declared war and he wasn't going to back down now. But who did he declare against, anyway? "I forbid it. You aren't gonna die, and you should fuckin' do everything to stay alive."

"Why?"

Simple question. Reno's eyes got sharper, if that was even remotely possible. "'Cause," he said, his tone brusque, "you're mine. And I'll be damned if anything takes you away from me."

And for the first time, an expression registered across Arien's face. A hint of surprise, toned down with… something else. He wasn't sure what, but she nodded obediently, then cocked her head to the right, looking downward, as if the floor held answers. "Fine," she whispered. "If you say so."

Reno said nothing as she leaned onto him. The morning light was becoming noon light. _Nothing's turnin' out the way I planned,_ Reno thought wryly. _But what the fuck am I supposed to do? Just nod and let her curl up and die? No fuckin' way. I'll beat her if I have to, but she'd better keep fighting. _

The silence and the interim was shattered by a shrill tone of the telephone. It was Arien's, and she left him - almost reluctantly, it seemed - and disappeared back into the bedroom, her hair still mussed and still in the T shirt she used as sleepwear. He felt the coldness now that her body was no longer next to his, and shivered. He heard Arien's soft voice, like a whisper. The phone call was short, but when she came back, she was even paler than before. Without even telling him anything, she grabbed her Sig and the holster.

"What's goin' on?"

Arien's face was blank. "It's Siva," she said, her voice hoarse.

"What about her?"

She sighed, looking a little lost, leather in one hand and a gun in the other, slender legs sticking out from the oversized T shirt. "I guess I can tell you now," she said, not meeting his eyes, "since Axil knows now. She has Geostigma too." And with that, she was gone.


	28. Smiles and Tears

Merry Christmas to my readers!

Bloodwitch Raven - If there's a hallmark trait for our redhead, it's his never-give-up spirit, I think. He's one of the very few who have survived through practically everything while being at the front lines for it all. He's a survivor, despite walking fine lines.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - I think it's because Reno doesn't like giving up. He's never given up on many things, and the singular successful relationship in his life isn't going to be one of the few things he's given up on. Arien, on the other hand, might not be as strong...

Chapter 27: Smiles and Tears

* * *

Reno made no move to stop her or ask her where she was going when she left the abode. He merely watched as she walked out the front door, clad in a leather jacket and jeans. Her boot heels clicked as she walked, her gait brusque and quick, as if she was in a hurry to get to her destination. She looked no different from the day he had met her - it seemed eons ago - but something had changed, and he wondered what had. Had he changed? Did she change him?

Probably.

If Arien noticed Reno's unusual pensiveness, she made no comment. Axil sounded frantic on the phone, and she was in a hurry to get to Siva. She hadn't expected this to happen; at least, not so soon, and she was fearing for her friend, and also for herself. If Siva's illness had progressed this quickly, how long did she have?

She knew it was selfish to think about herself and Reno when Siva could be dying. But she could not help it; what Siva and Axil were going through could just be a preview for what they had to go through next. She tried not to think about it, but Reno's face kept flashing before her eyes, the day when he had come to visit after the Meteor Crisis. He had looked unusually serious, but also relieved to see her. She didn't know how he'll react if she was gone. She hoped he'd just get over it and move on, but then why did she have a tiny voice in her head telling her that he won't and he'd probably break?

The walk to Siva's place was glum. People were coming and going, but in dark corners and back alleys, she saw children sitting by the walls, without places to go. Some of the small bodies were still, and she tried to look away from them, knowing what they meant, feeling guilty. It wasn't her fault, was it? But then, why did she feel so awful about it? It wasn't the commiseration of a fellow invalid; it was guilt, and she didn't know why she felt it. Regardless, she did, and she tried to avert her eyes as she saw the small bodies, propped against the filthy walls, curled up on the ground in dirty alleyways. All she could do was apologise, but what would that do?

When she arrived, the small flat was quiet. Axil looked pale as death when he answered the door. "How is she?" she whispered as he led her to the bedroom. The place was furnished with bright colours, and she recalled Siva's previous place, all oranges and yellows and bright colours of sunshine. This wasn't a place where people died. It was where laughter echoed throughout the walls, where people lived happily ever after. So why was this happening? If Siva deserved this, then didn't all of them deserve to die?

"She's… not good," Axil answered. "She actually cooked last night, and well… she collapsed this morning. I didn't know," he said, choking. "Oh Arien, I didn't know she was sick. I should've known, why didn't I-"

"Stop," she said. "You couldn't have known. She kept it hidden, Ax. And she wasn't an Intelligence operative for nothing." Except Reno had found out about herself. But Reno was a Turk, maybe that made him more observant. Or maybe it was just luck.

The walk down the hallway was silent. Axil couldn't speak, and Arien didn't have anything to say, so she was almost relieved when Axil stopped his feet in front of the closed door. Arien took a deep breath, not wanting to see her friend, so bright and filled with life, vivacious and cheerful, sick in bed. She wanted to see her as she had been before the Meteor Fall. She wanted everything to be as it had been, with her in Section AA, with Siva and Felicita on the same floor as she was, without the shackles around her wrists, without Reno in her life. Free to live and free to die. Free to throw her life away without concern. Because Reno might have to go through this, and that pained her even more than the thought of dying. Watching Axil's face struck with shock and pain was painful enough for her without imagining Reno's face like that. Grief didn't belong on their faces. Intense concentration, yes, sarcastic grins, sure, but not grief. She gritted her teeth, blinked twice, willing the tears to go away.

She had to smile. She plastered it on, then nearly choked. This was going to be hard.

Siva was in bed; Arien had expected her to sit up, but it looked like even that was not possible now. All the worldliness had been burned to ashes, and her face almost looked ethereally pure. It was almost as if a deep red rose had been bleached to ghostly white.

_Oh god. _

"Hey," Siva said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thanks for coming."

"Are you-"

"Axil, can you give us a moment?" Siva whispered. Axil nodded and left, closing the door behind him. She beckoned to her friend with a finger, and Arien bent down. "Thanks," she said.

"Shut up," Arien snapped. "Don't you dare."

Siva laughed, but the laughter was almost inaudible. "That's not up to me, but it's like you to say that," said the woman. "Maybe that's why you're a Turk. You guys seem to think you can work hard enough to change anything."

Actually, they didn't, but she didn't refute it. The more she became a Turk, more futile she felt; it was like they were swimming against a huge tide, trying to get to the other side, while the waves just carried them away. The things that were happening were too big for a group of people to tackle and resolve. Nature was a force that was not to be trifled with, and Shinra had played with it, and now it was getting burned. Such was their folly.

"Take care of Axil, okay?" Siva continued. "I wish- I wish I could've taken care of him myself, but looks like I won't be able to."

"Shut up, Siva."

"Just listen," Siva gently said. "I didn't have a bad life, you know. I had good friends who love me. I met a wonderful man who didn't give up on me. And you know, at the end of the day, what more can you want?"

Arien tried to breathe in without letting tears fall. She failed. A tear fell down, then another, and she gritted her teeth, but they continued to stream down her cheeks. "Sivvie-"

"But it looks like I have to go," Siva whispered. "So… take good care of Axil, okay? I know you will, you and Reno both, but please. For me?"

Arien nodded once. What else could she do? She turned her head when a loud "Siva!" came in through the doorway. Ivy and Felicita had arrived, and they saw Arien kneeling by the bed, crying silently, and then they knew.

"No," Felicita blurted out. "Sivvie, no, please! Tell me no!"

Arien got to her feet and left. Because she didn't want to watch Felicita and Ivy in grief. Because she didn't want to imagine them doing that to her. Why didn't anything work out the way she wanted it to? She walked past Axil to get to the living room, who saw her grief-stricken face and wisely said nothing, but left her alone. A few minutes later, Ivy came out, then after that, Felicita.

"Siva was getting sleepy," Ivy explained, looking dazed, as Arien asked for an explanation with her eyes. "So, we guessed, well, I guessed that, Axil would-" she crumbled down into a chair, and covered her face with her hands. Felicita's face crumpled, and Arien could do nothing but hug her friend. They remained still, hoping that their friend will make it, knowing that she won't. Some wishes never came to be true, and if the three had ever wished for anything, it was for Siva to survive.

That was the last time the three women saw Siva Felthant alive. None of them knew what Axil and she had talked in her last moments; but when they went to see, thirty minutes later, they saw Siva with her eyes closed, and Axil collapsed onto the bed, holding her hand.

"Ax," Arien said gently, touching his shoulder. He looked up, his face like an empty mask.

"Siva said… Siva said, thank you," Axil Weatherston whispered. "I-"

"Shh," said his friend. "No need to say anything." Felicita was openly weeping now, and Ivy's face was wet with tears as Felicita cried on her shoulder. The four had gone through all the difficult times together ever since they had met, four friends in an otherwise male-oriented difficult working environment. Arien managed a weak smile. Siva had left behind so many gifts for them, and Arien found herself crying as she smiled, realising that she'd never see her fiery friend again, never see her laugh, never hear her jokes. She'd never see her happy with Axil again. She'd never see her hit Axil again as Axil say something embarrassing to her. She'd never see Siva's child. She'd never see Siva and Axil say 'I do'.

Maybe Siva had gone to a better place, but was it really a better place for her without Axil?

"Goodbye," she mouthed to her friend. Siva looked peaceful, as if she had just fallen asleep, a slight smile on her face, which pained her even more. She didn't deserve this end. She deserved all the joys and sorrows of life. Siva had never wanted anything more than simple happiness. And didn't everyone deserve that?

Eventually Axil bade all of them to go home. Arien obeyed, not wanting to intrude on Axil's privacy, but she had no idea what to tell Reno. The sky was eerily blue, the sun shining brightly as she walked home. She wasn't sure if it was the sun, but the tears continued to fall.

* * *

When Arien walked in, Reno was still on the sofa, brooding. He looked up, and saw her face. And he knew.

"So…" he paused, unsure what to say. He didn't need to. Arien nodded, then sat down, and buried her face in her hands.

"How's Ax?" he asked after a while. Arien looked up, but she was holding back tears as she shook her head.

"He's-" she was gritting her teeth. "He's not fine." She reached over, wiping her tears away, then pulled out a drawer and from it an envelope. "Siva gave this to me to give it to you," she said haltingly, her voice choked. "To give it to Axil."

"What's this?" He took it.

"Siva, she… she had her eggs frozen, so Axil… well… for him. She thought you knew him best, so you'd know the best timing to give it to him." Tears flooded again. "I didn't think I'd ever give this to you. I hoped I didn't have to."

Reno grimaced. He didn't want to see Axil. He didn't want to see his friend's face, ravaged with grief, wondering if he was next. He didn't want to wonder when he'd have to wear the same expression. He didn't want to consider the possibility. But now that Siva Felthant was dead, the reality was hitting him, and it was hitting him hard. Despite what he wanted to believe, Rufus and Arien _could_ die. And then where would he be?

He looked down at the envelope, now in his hands. Stupid Siva, to focus on what to do for Axil after she was dead, rather than what she could do for Axil, which was to live. Stupid woman. Idiot. It was extremely hard for men like him to give his heart to someone else, and Axil had done that, only to have it shattered. Reno knew what Axil was going through right now; after all, he had gone through something similar when Meteor Crisis had ended, albeit it being his choice. That moment, when he had believed Arien dead, was something he wanted to avoid at all costs. Sure, there were other women, but how many could he utterly trust with his life? How many could he trust to rescue her life for his own? She wasn't just his sexual partner, or girlfriend; she was his comrade, his teammate.

The phone rang, and Reno picked up. "It's for you," he said after a moment, handing the handset to her.

"He… hello?" She managed. "Hi… yes. Of course. No, it's… it's not a problem, Axil. All-right. I'll try. Okay, bye." She hang up, then sat, immobile, the handset in her limp hands. She looked up, then took a deep breath to compose herself, then exhaled.

"The funeral's day after tomorrow," she said, her voice a little more stable.

Reno remained still for a moment. Then he tossed the envelope next to him on the sofa. "I can't go," he said finally. "Not after… well, this."

She nodded, not meeting his eyes. She knew just exactly why he couldn't, and didn't press him. She didn't expect him to sit through and mentally simulate himself in Axil's shoes.

Arien spent the rest of the day helping Axil. Reno had headed out to the Edge that evening and didn't come back. Nor did she expect him to. She spent the evening, alone. The rooms felt awfully silent and big without the redhead in it.

She wondered how Reno would feel about the place, when she was gone.

* * *

Reno sat in the room he shared with Arien at Healin, feeling very tired. Which was unusual for the man; he usually had more energy than a hyperactive squirrel, and most of the squad secretly suspected he had ADD. But he felt tired, and all he wanted to do was just crawl into the bed and let sleep carry him away. But the bed felt awfully big and empty when it was just him in it. Which was odd, because he'd slept in this bed plenty of times without feeling it lacking. He blamed Arien for it.

He flopped onto the bed, staring at the ceiling, arms behind his head. The ceiling was impassive and quite uncaring to his woes and plight, but then again, ceilings were like that. He rolled over, reaching over to the other side, pretending that Arien was there, sleeping. He imagined her face, eyes closed, relaxed and unwary. But the hand touched nothing but the duvet, and the place held no body. There was no indentation in the mattress, no warmth that came from a living body. And so now he was doubly aware that Arien wasn't here.

"See," he said to the ceiling, "this is why we shouldn't get attached to people."

The ceiling said nothing.

"When us Turks get attached to people, we become weak," Reno explained. "So it was practically everyone's advice to everyone else not to get emotionally attached. I'm an idiot."

Silence reigned.

"Yeah, I'm a fuckin' idiot." He rolled onto his back again. "You know what's even more fuckin' idiotic? She thinks the best thing to do is for me to forget she ever existed, so she can crawl in a ditch and die by herself. That's really, really fuckin' stupid."

The ceiling remained impassive.

"That's pretty fuckin' selfish, ya know," he continued. "Now she's helpin' Axil out with the funeral. Ya know what, I ain't goin'," he declared.

Did the ceiling just judge him?

"I can't," he defended. "I just can't."

The ceiling didn't seem to understand.

"Because- because it'll be like watching my future," he said out loud. "It'll be like a fuckin' movie preview. Except you don't pay ten gils to watch it come Thursday, but instead the shit falls on your head and you end up breakin' your neck."

_What do I do without her?_ Was the question that kept nagging him. It wasn't that he required her functions to survive; he had fended for himself before she practically burst into his life. But the bed _did_ feel awfully big, and he knew that the apartment would feel even emptier if he knew Arien was not coming back. There was a stark difference between someone being temporarily absent, and someone permanently vacating the premises. Arien'd done the previous many times, but she had only done the latter once, and while he didn't want to admit it, there was a nasty voice telling him that he had probably gone batcrap crazy if it had persisted.

"Damn you, Arie," he said to the ceiling. "Damn you to all hell."

But it was his fault. And now he couldn't sleep, and it was likely Arien wasn't sleeping either; she never did sleep well without him. He rolled over again. It was the stupidest thing he'd ever heard, two people who couldn't sleep well without each other not sleeping well because they weren't with each other. If that wasn't impracticality, what was?

He closed his eyes, but it looked like the ceiling would continue to judge him. And sleep refused to come. He silently blamed the ceiling for staring at him so.


	29. Farwell to the Flame

Bloodwitch Raven - True, but not having attachments can be useful... or so Arien might think. In my setting Reno's a little more in tune with his emotions than Arien, which makes him a little more mature. Reno's the kind who's been burned but is willing to give it another go. Arien's the type who's terrified of being burned and won't touch fire.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - I didn't quite know what would happen to Siva until it actually happened. But here it is. Siva's dead, making Geostigma a little more real to the rest of the players than just "random kid A dying in the street". Deaths tend to remain numbers until it happens to someone close to you, and the Turks are getting that shoved into their faces.

Update, right on schedule! Amazing!

Chapter 28: Farewell to the Flame

* * *

"Blessed lord of the skies, your servant calls. Watch over the passing of this woman, Siva Arilda Felthant, beloved of a man who is beloved by you…"

Arien sat, head bowed. This was no pleasant occasion; not once had she ever even imagined she'd be attending Siva's funeral. She had thought that Siva would be attending hers, not vice versa, and despite seeing one of her best friends draw her last breath, it was still fairly surreal. Felicita's white hair was shrouded in indigo lace as she sat next to her. Axil stood with casket, his eyes empty; his tears spent, he stood, in solitary grief that none could rightly share as a burden. Next to him was Shivvalan, silently lending support to the grieving man.

"Receive the woman who had bravely fought the illness 'til the very end. Bless her as your daughter, so she shall dwell in your eternal paradise. We deliver her spirit to your realm. Lend her aid on her last journey, and carry her soul to She who weighs our souls."

Axil bent over the body, placed a strand of his own hair, plucked from his head only a few moments earlier. "My flesh I deliver," he whispered, yet it was audible to the entire room. "And my blood I willingly give, that which has passed through my heart." A quick cut of his hand, and the red liquid fell. "My breath, to carry thee to the world next, and my love, for all eternal." Axil took a moment to compose himself; a harsh breath was expelled, then sucked in as he regained his composure. "Wait for me, for I shall someday come." A breath, and then he kissed the cold forehead.

The ritual of death was something vaguely familiar to Arien, but not so to the others present. She had sent her own mother off, like this, so long ago, as a child, and remembered it, remembered watching her father repeat the same lines. Siva had many friends, and they had come, dragging themselves out from the hiding holes they had burrowed themselves into after the Meteor fell. Unable to get hold of Siva's family and respecting Siva's wishes to submit herself to what she considered a gentler deity, Axil had given her a Wutaian ritual instead of a Midgarian one, which was far more elaborate and less personal. Arien and Teiji had helped get hold of someone with an inkling of the rituals required to preside over a funeral.

Reno had not come. When he had declared that choice, Arien had merely nodded; she knew well the reason why he had decided he could not go. It was nothing against Axil or Siva, but some things took time. And so she left, silent, grieving, fearing for the inevitable that felt like a preview.

She straightened her dress, not wanting to see the flames go up, immolating her dead friend to leave nought but ashes. The dark blue dress was sleeveless and collarless, and she felt a chill, although soon enough there'd be overwhelming heat as the fire carried her friend to the skies. A white scarf was around her neck, a customary colour of purity against the dark blue of solemnity and mourning and the sign of the coming night before the skies were reborn again. It did little to warm her. A single female voice rose to the sky, a song of mourning that carried through the air; a song of grief that was too deep to be melodramatic, the voice sought to heal, to bring comfort to those grieving for the dead.

The crackle sounded, and the flames went up, consuming Siva with what appeared to be malicious glee. She knew that fire had no feelings and therefore this was completely her imagination, but she could not help feeling it; her heels clicked, almost uncomfortably loudly, as she stood up to complete her part of the ritual; her former colleagues had lined up to say their goodbyes. Elena was somewhere behind her, looking uncomfortable, yet willing to pay respects to her new friend, who had left the world before she had gotten to know her better. Axil looked as if he was about to faint, and only stood with the help from Shivvalan, whose grief-struck face was nothing compared to the man next to him. The Wutaian looked ravaged.

Axil's part was reserved for grieving husbands or wives; although they had not been married, Axil had requested it. Nobody had objected after seeing Axil's expression of determination. The others, however, had their parts of the ritual to send off their friend. No family member had come, a testimony to Siva's story that she had been cut off after a tragic mistake; after her own flesh and blood had abandoned her, she had found a new family amongst the Intelligence members, united by a bond that ran thicker than blood. And they assembled here now, to lend a shoulder and give tears. One by one, the members whispered a part-ritualistic, part-personal farewell to the woman who had been so vibrant and vivacious in life that it was unnatural for her to remain so still in death. And then they left the queue to return to their seats, although some stopped by to give a word of comfort to the bereaved.

Arien stepped forward when her turn came. "My friendship I give," she told her friend, "and this I give freely. My love I give to my sister, in spirit if not in flesh and blood." She realised that Siva had been far more of a sister to her than Reniel had ever been; she shook the thought away, feeling it sacrilegious to be thinking about Reniel even for a moment when Siva was before her. "Lord of the Skies, the blessed father of this world and the next, see to it that she travels to your realm safely. May she no longer face dangers as she had in life." She lowered her voice, barely above a whisper. "Siva… I didn't imagine I'd have to see you off like this. You were always like a sister to me. I…" Her throat was parched, and she coughed. "I don't know what I'll do without you," was all she managed, but she knew that Siva'd understand. She'd at least understand that Arien had no other words that she could say. She returned to her seat, too numb to weep. Despite seeing her friend go up in flames, despite seeing her die, she somewhat still couldn't believe it; she didn't want to. She almost felt as if she'd just go back and see Siva laughing in the apartment.

The crowd began to disperse, one by one; Siva's remains would be buried later, atop the cliff that looked over the arid plains that led to Midgar. Arien was coming out with Felicita, who was shaking, trying not to cry, when she saw a familiar face.

"Reno?" She mouthed. She was concerned she'd choke if she said it out loud. But Reno was there, dressed in a button-down shirt and dark slacks, not looking dishevelled for once. Even he had enough respect for the dead to not show up as if he had drunk himself to stupor the previous night. His face looked haggard, and in his hand was a bouquet of red tulips.

And then she knew. Reno had come to pay respects to the woman who had done everything to reunite them.

She stayed some distance away, as she knew that he wasn't waiting for her, but for the grieving lover. Axil came out last, almost stumbling, Shivvalan still at his side; Ivy was casting scathing looks at the redhead, but if Reno noticed, he ignored it. Zen looked positively uncomfortable. She saw Shivvalan beckoning her over, and she left Felicita's side and ran to the two, wondering what was going on.

"Arien."

"Are you all-right?" She asked. "Never mind. Stupid question to ask. Is there anything I can get for you?"

Axil reached into his pocket, and got out a small package. "Siva left this for you," he whispered.

It was one of the charms Siva wore on her bracelet around her wrist. She nodded, unable to speak, not even sure what she was feeling anymore. It was the only physical reminder she had of the fact that a woman named Siva Felthant had once been one of her best friends, that she had been there when Arien had been at her worst. She knew that the raw grief would come soon, when she'd be reminded that Siva was gone, but for now, it almost felt as if she'd just left, and would return soon. Was it wishful thinking, or just that she hadn't understood that she was gone?

"Thanks," she managed. Her voice cracked. She took the chain around her neck off and attached the charm onto it, her fingers not moving quite as deftly as she wished. She nearly dropped the silver charm a few times.

The friends began to gather around Axil, silent, but still there, grieving together, telling him without words that the red-haired woman would be sorely missed. Felicita's tears were hidden behind her veil, but still one could see that she was crying.

"I can't believe he didn't show up to the funeral," Ivy said. "And then he shows up now?"

Axil remained silent, but Shivvalan shook his head. "There was a reason he couldn't come." Then, he turned to Arien, who was holding Felicita as she cried. "You have Geostigma, don't you?"

Unable to speak, she nodded. "He found out two nights ago," she said slowly.

"You what?! Why didn't you tell us?"

"The same reason Siva didn't tell anyone," Axil said. He then parted the small crowd as he began to walk slowly to the redhead. "Hey, Ren. Thanks."

"I'm sorry I couldn't make it," was the reply in a hollow voice. Axil nodded.

"I know. Arien told me. And I know what you're feeling." He pulled out an envelope from his breast pocket. "Siva wrote this, the night before she…" he left the sentence unfinished. "It's for you."

"Me?"

"Well, I was supposed to give it to you when you knew about Arien, but I guess that's now." His face had a sad smile. "I guess… she wants you two to make it, since, well, we…"

Reno nodded, exchanging the envelope for the bouquet. Axil smiled sadly again, seeing Siva's favourite flowers. Simple but vibrant, they were just like her, vivid and lively, shaking softly in the wind. A petal was torn and fluttered away.

"I'll leave you two alone," said Shivvalan. "C'mon. We can all use a drink."

Elena and Arien looked at each other, then nodded. "Elena and I'll go home," she said, her voice hoarse. "We have stuff to do, and-"

Shivvalan wove her apologies away. "Go."

The two women walked away, needing to be away from the grief and the misery. And as she walked away, she saw Reno and Axil walking in another direction, and sorely felt that her old camaraderie with the Intelligence was now subtly different, as if she was a neighbour, but not the inhabitant of the same house as they. She looked up into the bright sky, and for the first time that day, she felt tears fall. It was the sun, probably; she began walking again, feeling the charm against her skin, a reminder from Siva. But reminder of what, she didn't quite know.

* * *

Reno and Axil walked aimlessly, Reno with his hands stuffed in his pockets, Axil with the bouquet of tulips in his hand. It wasn't like they were heading anywhere; but they did need to get away from their friends and those who cared about them. Inside, they were pretty similar in that they didn't really believe they deserved all the emotional happiness people took for granted.

Reno looked up, not knowing that Arien was doing just the same. The sun was bright, a beautiful day to be enjoyed. But for some reason, even the sun seemed to be silently mourning the woman's passing, as if the sun was trying its best to guide the departed soul to the sky. Reno knew just as well as anyone else that once someone died, they returned to the Lifestream, but he didn't really want to believe it. For one, he didn't really want to believe that Siva had just turned into energy, and he also didn't want to think about just how many people's souls had turned into energy for him to watch television. So he blindly tried to believe that the Wutaians knew better than science.

"Thanks," Axil muttered.

He looked at the grieving man. "Hey, I didn't come. Well, I couldn't," he amended. "…Sorry."

"You know," Axil said, trying to smile but ending up with a stiff grimace instead, "I think Siva understood. I think that's why she wrote that letter. In the end, she, well, dunno. I just think she knew."

Reno nodded, unable to speak. If things had gone differently, it had been quite likely that he would have slept with her once or twice, then had remained acquaintances. But fate had dealt different cards and Reno had ended up with one of Siva's best friends, and the Intelligence's top playboy had ended up with Siva. And despite all the issues that may have cropped up, the two had stayed together until the end. Maybe it was weakness that had connected the two, he mused, just as loneliness and a hopeless desire for redemption had kept him and Arien together. It was terrifying to dream on your own; he needed someone else to dream with. Maybe Axil had been the same.

But Axil was now alone.

"Ax, I gotta tell ya somethin'," he said. "I have something from Siva too. For you."

"What?" He was staring at the flowers.

How the hell was he supposed to tell Axil that Siva had frozen her eggs? Women were stupid. They prepared to die and prepared for their loved ones' death, just in case the men ended up dead in the ditch. Why couldn't they just focus on surviving? That would have made Axil so much happier than anything.

So he just blurted it out.

Axil looked at him, dumbfounded, then tried to smile again, but instead, a tear fell. He wiped it away hurriedly. "Guess Siva was prepared," he muttered. "That fucking idiot."

That fucking idiot, indeed. Because Axil would have given everything up just to see Siva alive again.

"Thanks for telling me, Ren," Axil continued, his eyes focused elsewhere. "I can't do it now, but-"

"Hey, it's your choice," Reno said. "And dunno about the rest, but Arie and I'll be there, if you need help." Not that he actually thought they'd make good foster-anything. But he couldn't help offering. Because he wanted someone to tell him that, if he was in Axil's situation.

He had to believe that he wasn't alone.

The two men ended up hitting a bar, because neither of them knew any other way to forget pain and to talk without being spies and assassins. The bartender, who knew Reno well, saw their faces and said nothing but merely served them drinks. And with alcohol, Axil's grief came out, reserved, in trickles; but it was better than nothing, and the man needed to purge his emotions before moving on. Reno didn't know of any other way to allow Axil to just spew out his suffering, his dreams, now shattered. The redhead said nothing but listened, as a man who was in the same boat, as a friend.

The burden they had to shoulder were so heavy both of them felt as if they'd break. But they were free to feel now, free to care, and that gave them even more burden than when they had been unfeeling cogs in the Shinra chicanery. Neither of them knew which was better. But the path was set, and Reno couldn't turn back. Hell, he hadn't been able to turn back ever since Arien had tugged at his hand and he had looked into her eyes and made his mind to sleep with her.

People said that opening one's heart brought happiness, but as Reno watched Axil collapse onto the table, he wasn't sure whether opening one's heart brought more happiness or grief. He remembered Siva the last time he had seen her, when Arien had gone missing, her voice on the phone as she wished him good luck. He had to go forward. With Arien. Because Siva had, without meaning to, vested Axil and her own happiness on them too. He wasn't sure if it was right - hell, he wasn't even sure if it was possible in the first place - but he had to give it a try.

He never asked Axil about his relationships again. He knew that the Wutaian would never get over Siva, and he never expected him to. Some wounds were too deep, and the short period of happiness Axil had with Siva had been too intense for it to fade away. And Axil never entered a relationship again. His friends knew that his heart had been burned to ashes with Siva's body and scattered atop the cliff.


	30. Chasing After the Lost Boy

Note: This chapter's pretty closely translated from the original novel, except I omitted one detail: apparently Reno yells into the mic amateurishly while on helicopters to compete with the engine and the motor. I didn't think he'd have that habit, so I took it out. It's up to you to decide whether Reno actually does that or not.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - Turks: The Kids are Alright is nearly done, so I can move onto the plots of Advent Children in the latter half. I might cut down a lot of the comedy from the duo, and add a little more assassin stuff.

Chapter 29: Chasing After the Lost Boy

* * *

While Siva's death was causing mass grief even though it was the day after the funeral, Rude was fixing the chopper in Sector 8. Chopper 2 required a new starter motor, something that wasn't so readily available nowadays; as the resident handyman of the squad (Reno only could blow stuff up, Arien could wire cars but that was about it, Elena only knew bombs and Tseng could only pilot a chopper and not fix one), he was now under the belly of the helicopter, replacing the starter motor that he had taken apart and fixed.

His excellent hearing caught the slight shift of the wind, footsteps from outside the warehouse where he was. He had been baiting whomever that had been eavesdropping the conversation with Tseng. More footsteps, then someone had walked onto the metal parts he had spread over the entrance. He tensed, pretending to continue with his work while waiting for the intruder to come in.

Nothing.

He crawled out from the awkward position - maybe this was what it felt like for women to be with really big men, he wondered vaguely - then stepped out of the warehouse. The sun was bright, even with his sunglasses. He was trying to find the intruder when the object came at him.

It was a pipe bomb, usually used for demolition in construction work. Putting the question of 'where did they get this' aside, he noticed that the thing was ready to blow. It fell right before him, rolled over for about half a metre, then stopped. He picked it up with unnatural speed that only those with mako enhancement could afford, then threw it back.

There was a shout, then the sound of explosion, then silence that deafened the air. It was always like that; things turned completely, eerily silent after explosions, and nobody quite knew why. It was a moment of stillness before people exploded into action and noise, but no one except Rude was here, and so he cut through the silence with his body and moved. Dust and smoke rose, creating a foggy curtain the colour of drab grey, cloaking whatever it decided to hide. No matter.

"Now, which idiot was it?" Rude murmured under his breath.

The cloud of dust was beginning to clear, and he walked to where he assumed the pipe bomb had exploded. Two men were on the ground, face down. He knelt - Reno probably would have kicked the body over, but he had a little more respect for the dead - and turned over the smaller man's body to face upward. The rat-faced man looked surprised; Rude was familiar with his face, but couldn't place his name, or where exactly he had met him.

He stood up, slapping the dust off from his knees, and got to the other body. He was about to kneel again when there was a sharp crack from under his foot; a pair of glasses, now the lenses broken, protested angrily from under his left shoe. He knelt anyway, turning the body over. Nope, not familiar. He reached over for the pair of glasses, then hooked the glasses onto the dead man's face.

"Oh," he murmured.

A few moments later, he was by the doorway to get better reception, and was dialling. A quick press of 4, and then the dial tone, and a very familiar voice drifted from the speakers. "Yo, buddy. Whassup." Reno must have moved away, since he heard gravel crunching, and then his best friend's voice, now isolated away from the humdrum. "Hey, how's the chopper comin' along?" More crunches.

"Never mind that," Rude said, leaning onto the door frame. "You know the kids?"

"Er, which one?"

"The kids who tried to steal from us."

"Evan and Kyrie's gang?"

Rude sometimes wished Reno wouldn't belabour the obvious. "Yes," he said. "Can you check whether these two are around?"

"Which ones?"

"Er, one looks like a rat." He heard Reno make a soft 'hmm', and realised that while he didn't know the names, Reno would. But then again, the redhead wasn't that good at detaching emotions when it came to those who weren't his victims. Renaldo Miller could be downright cruel, would murder an infant and walk away without moving a muscle on his face, but there were parts of him that desperately sought to emotionally attach with others. Which was why Reno and Arien got along so well; they both firmly believed forming emotional attachments to be guilty pleasures, and they sampled it like a diabetic at an ice cream parlour. They could only indulge in it with each other, and even then with some hint of guilt lingering in their minds. Perhaps Arien could have had a healthier bond with someone else, but with Reno it was beyond hopeless. And well, the girl had fallen for quite possibly the worst guy to fall for. He had watched both of them fall and crash to the ground.

"Keeo," Reno said, predictably. "The other one?"

"The one who had a brother with Geostigma. You know-"

"Fabio. I'll ask." Without goodbyes, Reno was gone.

On the other side of the line, Reno stared at the screen telling him that the conversation was a minute and ten seconds, then slid the phone into the pocket. Two more deaths, and pretty meaningless ones, indeed. This was all turning into one pointless death fest, and he wasn't sure of this was some omen. He hoped not. He turned, facing the former Shinra who was now in charge of the entire construction. "Hey," he said to Doyle, "What happened to Keeo? He ain't here today. And Fabio?"

Doyle looked puzzled. "Why? What happened?"

Reno's face was expressionless as he said it. "They're both dead."

* * *

Reno placed a call before the chopper took off. He wasn't sure when he was coming back, and he had to let Arien know, just in case. But when he said it, he heard Arien's almost waspish, "Just in case _what_?"

Things were getting messy by the second. He had managed to get half the story out of Doyle, who didn't know diddly squat except what he had told Fabio, which was that one of the choppers was in the warehouse. He had asked Arien to get information, and she had returned to him within an hour. Evidently, she had set one of the lackey gangs - was the leader's name Michelle or something else? He couldn't remember - to do the work and the story was a little more complicated than what he had expected. As soon as Arien had gotten back to him, he had told Rude to get the chopper started, and now he was on the phone with Arien, who sounded terse and waspish. Maybe she was a woman after all, vulnerable with her friend's death and wanting him with her.

But then the response completely blasted away his doubts. He should have known that as a Turk, she was used to compartmentalising. The Turks could shut away emotions, detach them from the consciousness, and just get moving. She was probably devastated about Siva, but that didn't mean she'd just bawl her eyes out. He should have known better.

"If I have to babysit Rufus again," Arien threatened darkly, "I'm going to get very angry."

"Tell that to Tseng, not me."

"Tseng's not here, and you're the second in command. Get Rude to babysit. Anyone but me!" came what was almost a scream. "I swear, if you come back and you set me to babysit shift again, you're sleeping on the coach for a week."

"You wanna fuck on the sofa too? 'Cause I have a few ideas-"

Rude silently counted chocobos in his head. He _really_ didn't want to know about his best friend's sex life, and he already knew too much about it.

"No, you're sleeping on the coach. Alone!" came the snap.

"Yeah, but don't blame me if I gotta go to Violetta's. I mean, A guy has needs, and-" He grinned as he heard a "That does it!" and the line went dead. If she had enough energy to be angry, that meant she could take care of herself until he came back. He'd be worried if all he heard were lethargic compliant replies. But since asking her whether she was fine was rather pointless, goading her into snapping was the next best option.

Next to him, Rude had firmly clamped his ears shut and was counting. Reno poked his best friend. "Yo, buddy, what's goin' on?"

"I don't need to know about your sex life," came the stern reply.

"You're just jelee," Reno smirked. "Let's go, Rude-y. The kid won't wait."

Rude sighed at Reno's belligerent retort, but pulled on the control stick, as Reno tested the microphone on his headset. There were the _blip blips_ as Reno tapped on the microphone, and Rude pushed on the stick to the left. It felt odd to have Reno in the co-pilot seat; they had flown like this many times before, but admittedly, Reno was a better pilot. And a better driver. With his superb reflexes, Reno was the best driver and the best pilot the Turks currently had; everyone could pilot a chopper, including Arien, but there was piloting and then there was piloting well.

Unfortunately, Reno also had better vision than Rude, and finding a person wasn't easy from an aerial view, let alone with sunglasses. And Reno didn't ask Rude to take his shades off, and Rude didn't offer. So as Reno squinted in the sunlight, Rude was heading to Under Junon, the part of the town that had been roofed with the city of Junon that Shinra had built, long ago. Not that the town was there now; it had fallen, for the lack of better words, when Shinra had fallen with Midgar. Now Junon was back to what it had been; a fishing village with boats.

"So what did Doyle say?" Rude asked as he headed southwest.

"Remember we met up with Chief? In the chopper warehouse? Well, turns out, the eavesdropper was Doyle. He followed after us, thinkin' that we're up to no good."

Weeell, since when were the Turks up to any good? Rude supposed Doyle's worries were well-justified. "But how did it turn into that?"

"Looks like, he told Fabio that there's a chopper in the warehouse. The rest, he doesn't have a fuckin' clue. Prolly true, ya know."

"And what did Fabio want?"

Reno paused for a moment, squinting again. "Accordin' to Slop - Slop, ya know, he looks like that, but he used to work for our commissariat, so he can fly, no problem - well, Fabio knew that, so he asked Slop to pilot. Wanted to fly the chopper. For Evan."

"Evan again?" Rude looked ahead, so he didn't know what sort of expression Reno was wearing. "How does he come into the story?"

"Aren't we going to Junon to check on that? Hold on. Where're the binoculars?" Reno felt around for it, then grabbed it. His fingers looked even more slender than before as he pressed the glasses to his face. "Er. Can ya hover?"

Rude obliged as Reno checked. "Huh," he said after a moment, "you might wanna land this thing." The bald man did not wait for an answer, but instead the altitude of the chopper began to lessen. As soon as Reno felt the gentle thump under his buttocks, he was out, almost jumping out of the machine to get to the ground. Rude got off with a little more dignity. Reno was almost like a child sometimes. As Rude rounded to where the redhead was, the thinner man pointed a little to the right, and Rude followed it with his eyes.

It looked like… a vehicle. A very familiar vehicle, if burned and with pieces missing, the broken pieces scattered around it. There were black scorch marks on the ground, and the paint had gone black, as if something had burned it. Rude nodded, and the two men began to walk. There was a pond right next to it, it water looking brackish and tepid, the clearness violated into murkiness that warned those thirsty to stay away from it. "That's Evan's car," Rude observed.

"Thought so. I'll report," said the redhead, pulling his phone out. "Can you do a perimeter, see what happened? You're better than me with bombs and shit." Without waiting, he took two steps away from Rude, who had bent down to the sad remnants of the vehicle. While Reno was dialling, Rude walked around it, and saw an automatic machine gun on the ground, near the water. He checked the serial; he couldn't remember the exact digits, but the number looked familiar. Besides, no professional would leave a firearm, loaded, like this. He peered over the broken metal and saw what looked like a fuel tank. It was scorched and bent, twisted into a shape that probably was the result of an accident. His eyes caught a bullet hole in the coachwork.

Mystery solved.

"He must have fired the gun," Rude explained to the redhead, who was waiting for the other side to pick up while impatiently tapping his foot. "There was an MG near the water. Probably fired from there."

"Why the fuck would he shoot the car? And where the hell did he get- Oh, Director, it's me. We came after Evan with the chopper, and-" He listened. "Yeah. Fabio Brown's dead, and we thought- Nah. But it turns out, Fabio Brown wanted to fly the chopper for Evan Townsend, so we figured we'd better ask the kid. Nope." He looked around, kicked a stone in boredom, as Rude gingerly picked the firearm up. Reno gestured with his empty hand for the bullet count. "The kid's not here. The car's burned to a crisp. Looks like it exploded. Yeah. Gotcha." He moved the phone away from his face, and Rude waited for Reno's information. "Tseng wants us to rendezvous. Pick the kid up if we can." He got back to the chopper first, slid into his seat, then put the headset back on, but slid the left side away from his ear. He began dialling again as Rude came in after him, the firearm in his arms. He stored the machine gun in the back as Reno pressed the phone to his face again.

"Arie? Yeah. Look, we're gonna fly to Junon - no, Under Junon, not the tin plate - yeah. We're chasing the kid. The car's exploded. No, don't think the kid's dead. Yeah, yeah. See ya later." He finally terminated the conversation as Rude came to the front, sat down, and prepared for take-off. "Hey Rude, I think the kid stuck to the road, so we might as well follow it."

Rude agreed. It wasn't the shortest route to Under Junon, but it was definitely one of the safest, and if Evan Townsend was anything, he was a coward at heart. No brash wild adventuring for the kid. So he followed the many trails of wheels grooved in by the cars going back and forth, and then-

"Reno."

"Huh? Oh yeah!" Reno leaned forward; there was Evan, his blond head obvious in the otherwise barren wasteland, looking eerily like Rufus Shinra from about seven years ago. Except Rufus' face had a slyness, an arrogance given only to the one born into privilege and wealth, even then. Evan just looked lost, with a messenger bag and a backpack, and two pairs of boots tied around his neck. Rude found himself relaxing at the sight of Evan.

"I don't like it," Rude said to no one in particular, as he circled over and began reducing the altitude. And for some reason, Evan began to hobble away.

"Why is he runnin' away?" Reno asked, puzzled.

"Probably guilty of something," Rude answered, cornering the young man as he lowered the altitude even further. Reno remained silent for a moment, watching as the land came up to meet them. "Hey, bud," he said, his voice uncharacteristically low, as Rude continued to lower the chopper. "Fabio tried to steal the chopper. Dependin' on the reason, Evan might be in deep shit."


	31. The Silver Phantom

Almost no Reno or Arien in this chapter. Lots and lots and lots of Tseng.

Bloodwitch Raven - I found the details about the silver-haired trio in the novel rather interesting, because it's never mentioned in the film. I wonder why. I think it would have made the three a lot more ominous than how it's depicted in the movie, so it's a big loss.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - I need to re-watch ACC before jumping into that arc. There's also the interlude between Reno and Arien in the meanwhile; this story's more about "what does it mean to be 'together'", while C'est La Vie was about 'what does it mean to like someone?'.

Chapter 30: The Silver Phantom

* * *

Tseng was deep in thought. The recent transpirations had left him with many questions, questions that required more pieces to answer fully. He needed DeVir here, who could ask around without being noticed, ease information out of even the most reclusive of people. Unfortunately, she was with Rufus. Elena was a good agent - he was proud of how far she had come since her rookie days - but she lacked the subtlety required for such missions.

Kyrie Kanan, the girl who was Evan's 'friend', for the lack of better word, had been carried in by the red dog with a flame at the end of the tail - it had to be Red XIII - and was now in the doctor's clinic. She had been swimming - that much was obvious, from what Dr Eugene's description of the girl in swimwear had said - and he frowned as he walked back. Elena, in a white, flowing dress, looked in place in this resort town, but Tseng knew that as soon as he sat down, they'd look really dislocated. White flowing dress and a three-piece suit couldn't look more out of place as a pair. If it was any other member of the Turks, they'd have picked far more casual outfits, but Tseng was uncomfortable wearing a T shirt. He just didn't have the casual messiness Reno had.

"How was it?" asked the blonde woman, stirring the contents of the glass with a straw. The ice broke with a sharp sound, clattering to the bottom of the tulip-shaped glassware. People went, to and fro, enjoying the sun and clearly not caring - or perhaps not noticing - that there were two Turks sitting outside.

"I'm trying to decide," Tseng said vaguely. Was it a coincidence that Red XIII just _happened_ to be there? Kyrie and Evan were connected, Evan connected to Rufus. What about Cloud Strife and Evan? Arien DeVir had reported that it was highly likely those two were somehow connected; Reno had reported the same, at a different occasion. If Rufus' brother was connected to his former enemies, what did that mean for the Turks? It could be coincidence, but Tseng was well aware that many small coincidences occurring together could mean something else entirely.

_Best not ignore this,_ he thought. For all of this to happen when they were searching for JENOVA… what did that mean? Was it pure coincidence that Kyrie Kanan had drowned where the Turks happened to be? Or?

The phone trilled, and he pulled it out. It was Reno. "Yes?" he said, not saying his name. Reno, as usual, talked with a drawl, but the report was simple enough.

"We came after Evan," the redhead was saying.

"What do you mean, 'we came after Evan'?"

"See, it looks like the eavesdropper was Doyle - you know, Doyle, right? - and the dude told Fabio, who asked Slop to fly the chopper. Anyway, Fabio kinda died, and it looks like Fabio was askin' for Evan, so we figured-"

"Alright," Tseng interrupted. "You two get here as well. If you find Evan on the way, pick him up." He ended the conversation, and looked at Elena. Elena looked back.

"Yes?"

"Are there change of clothes?"

"There's one more outfit back in the helicopter."

"Get it. Meet back here in half an hour." He stood up, and headed to the clinic. Reno's report - about Fabio and Evan - had left him with questions. What did Evan have to do with any of this? But first thing first; he had to get to Kyrie, know what was going on. He walked back to Dr Eugene's clinic, and opened the door.

The waiting room was empty.

_Damn it._

"Dr Eugene!" He raised his voice, seeing that the shady physician was nowhere to be seen within the room. The office, perhaps? Sure enough, the doctor came out, looking utterly bored and rather lazy, flexing his arms with a dumbbell in each hand. There was a sheen of sweat on his forehead. Tseng, who had watched his Turks do weight-training and had pretty much seen everyone near naked, was somehow offended with the doctor. For whatever reason, he looked obscene.

"Where's the girl?" He asked.

"Gone? Shit, ran off, did she? Didn't get the fee. Ah well, by the way she's dressed, she's probably penniless anyway." Eugene snickered. Tseng pulled out a wad of cash, and threw it onto the sofa.

"That enough?"

"Oh? And why are you paying the fees for a girl you don't even know?"

"I'm interested. That's the fee and a little extra for your silence. Not a word to anyone else."

"Whatever. Good luck to ya." But Eugene's types usually kept their silences, once it was paid for. That is, until a better counteroffer came along; but he doubted anyone'd pay a bigger amount for Kyrie Kanan's treatment plans. He ignored Eugene's jibe, and left the office. Just as he was about to walk back, he heard voices from the back.

"Where have you been?" A young woman's voice, but clearly not very concerned with being overheard. Both Arien and Elena had inevitably developed low voices when speaking in public; they had to, with all the stuff they had to communicate about. This wasn't the case right here.

"Here and there… wandering around." A young male's voice this time. Tseng silently rounded to the back of the clinic; grass caressed his shoes, and he had a hard time silencing its whispers as he moved. When he got to a spot where it would be impossible for them to see him - although he couldn't see them either - he pressed his back against the flimsy wall, holding his breath as he tried to listen.

"I thought you died in the fire," said the girl.

"Bad people don't die."

"I quit, so I'll probably die early."

"Because of that guy, Evan?"

Tseng tensed. So the newcomer knew Evan.

"Not because of him, but thanks to him, yeah." A pause. Then, the girl voiced the thought that was caterwauling through Tseng's head. "Hey, how d'you know Evan?"

"I know all about you, Kyrie."

_So it is Kyrie Kanan_, Tseng thought. Then who was the guy? He had to at least see the newcomer's face; he went around the corner and showed himself to the two. Kyrie, wearing a light jacket over the orange bikini and slippers - probably from the clinic, Tseng'd seen an identical pair in the waiting room - saw him first, her expression curious. Next to him was…

Tseng nearly backed. Reno would have immediately gone into a fight mode, but Tseng was a little more controlled, so all he had to show for his apprehension - no, fear - was goosebumps all over his arms. Silver-haired, the boy, almost looking like a girl, reminded of a monster that had nearly been his downfall. He still remembered the monster that had almost sliced him in two, the long blade sliding into his flesh, the burning explosion of pain that told him his body was screaming for help…

_Sephiroth._

Tseng tried to convince himself that the only similarity between the two was the silvery hair, but still the fear clung onto him like slime. His limbs began to shake, and he berated himself that Turks did not quaver like a leaf. But the body remembered the pain and the agony as it lay, nearly hacked into pieces and bleeding. Tseng looked back at the boy.

"Who?" the boy asked.

"I don't know- oh, the person from Healin!"

Tseng nodded confirmation, and the boy neared him, extending his right hand. The black leather suit creaked, stiff with newness. It fit his body like a sheath. Custom-made?

"I'm Kadaj, an old friend of Kyrie's. Hi."

The Wutaian stared at the hand for a moment, swallowing his fear. He extended his own hand, and the boy slowly grasped it. A wave of cold sweat rushed through Tseng's body, and he felt as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice water on his head.

_This isn__'t human._

"Nice to meet you," said the boy, smiling. "Tseng of the Turks, isn't it?"

Kyrie naturally glanced at Kadaj, frowning. Of course; he had never introduced himself, so how was this silver-haired boy to know? But the boy disrupted whatever thought Kyrie had, by bidding farewell, and then telling Kyrie Kanan to not concern herself with the likes of 'such men', meaning Tseng.

Kadaj backed, smiling, as Kyrie's eyes rolled up into her head and collapsed. Tseng reflexively moved to catch the falling girl, when the world went black.

* * *

When Tseng came to, the back of his head hurt. He must have fallen over backwards. Rubbing his head, he stood up; the freshness of the pain told him he hadn't been out for too long. Kadaj was gone, if he had ever been here. He knelt beside Kyrie, and gently slapped her awake.

"Are you well, Kyrie?"

Her eyes opened, ever so slightly, and then as soon as she recognised Tseng she got to her feet as if she was on a spring.

"My subordinates found Evan. He's under our protection."

Lies, but it was necessary to get this girl's trust. Sure enough, her face relaxed, but then her expression hardened again. Tseng decided to ignore it. For now.

"I'm going back to the helicopter. Evan's coming. What will you do?"

"Of course I'm coming!"

Truth be told, Tseng did not know how to treat this girl. Young women baffled him; even Elena did, to a certain extent. Their liveliness, their brightness was the exact opposite of his own disposition, and he was flummoxed when it came to talking to young women. DeVir was a startling exception, although he pegged this particular trait onto their shared heritage from Wutai. Well, DeVir was quiet, almost dour; she almost never chatted, and her conversations were as crisp and terse as one would expect.

He nodded, then began to walk toward the entrance into the village. Kyrie appeared to be following him, from the way the gravel crunched. They walked in silence for a few minutes, but the girl needed to talk. Of course.

"I wonder why I collapsed?"

_How am I supposed to know?_

"I don't know," he answered. He was wondering that himself, although he had a good idea why. "Isn't it the aftereffect of drowning?" After a moment of thought, he decided to keep silent about his own collapse. He needed more confirmation before announcing his doubt to the world.

"Can such thing happen? Anyway, how did I get here? I drowned, passed out, and-}

Tseng shrugged. "I just happened to be there. Ask Evan for the details. By the way, who's that Kadaj?"

"An acquaintance." Suddenly she got close-lipped.

"Is it really him?"

"What do you mean?"

"I heard your conversation. Didn't he say he died in a fire?"

"Of course it's him! Round nose, orange hair. Kadaj's trademarks. Didn't you see?"

"Orange hair?"

"Yep. It's kinda hard to dye his hair that shade. Cool, isn't it?"

Well, one thing just got a lot cooler for Tseng, and that was his body temperature, or so it seemed. He was suddenly feeling very, very chilly. Halting to a standstill, he turned, trying to see the expression Kyrie was wearing; she didn't notice he had stopped, and crashed into him head-on.

"Ow!"

Well, that did it. That Kadaj - whoever it was - was not Kadaj as Kyrie knew. Tseng was familiar with a creature that had very similar powers to what this 'Kadaj' had, and it was a story he'd rather detach himself from. Preferably forever. It was also a story that involved Tseng's ultimate objective. He grabbed Kyrie by the shoulder, who was looking embarrassed and was trying to distance herself away from him. Whatever this girl meant in the grand scheme of things, she had to be told, because such abominations had no business meddling with people's lives. Not now, after everything that had happened.

"That boy who called himself Kadaj," Tseng said slowly, "is not a human being." He checked Kyrie's face for disbelief, and sure, it was there, but he continued. "He is a monster."

He needed her to rely on the Turks.

"That's ridiculous," was the predictable answer.

"And I don't blame you for not believing, but you should be careful if you do have contact with him in the future. He will try to control you. There's been cases before." He recalled Professor Hojo, who was rumoured to have gone insane. He was also the one with the longest exposure to JENOVA. Did he go insane because of that alien monster? Or was he just wacko to begin with? Reno's belief was that Hojo was born insane and he just couldn't die fast enough, but Tseng had different opinions about that. He told, albeit briefly, of JENOVA's history, its almost mystical powers to take form of those close to the target and manipulate them into distrust. He then reassured that they would protect her.

"Why?" she asked.

"You're Evan's friend. Evan is an important person for us. Didn't you know?"

Shake of head. Tseng explained how Evan was related to Rufus Shinra - or what he deemed safe to know, at least - and then repeated what he had said before. All the while he wondered whether what he was doing now was in any way different from what JENOVA had done. Manipulation was a game Turks played extremely well, but now that he found himself doing the same thing as that monster, he found the idea abhorrent.

A few more minutes of silent march and the helicopter - and with that, Elena, who was leaning onto the door - came into view. Kyrie looked at the blonde, petite woman curiously. "Is she a Turk too?" the girl asked. Perhaps she had expected the Turks to be all men. Well, that was only natural; despite women performing just as well as men in what the Investigation Sector did, many associated combat with the male gender.

"Her name is Elena. She has clothes for you."

"The one who hurt Fabio?"

"Yes. But can you please not bring back that particular incident? What's done is done."

"It won't end so easily," Kyrie muttered, and then she broke out in a run, brushing past the leader of the Turks and heading straight toward Elena.

"How dare you hurt Fabio!" An accusatory finger was pointed at Elena's face.

"Don't throw accusations at me," the Turk replied, moving the finger away from her nose. "It's not my fault he died."

"Who died?"

Elena's expression clearly said "shit, I screwed up". Shrugging, she looked at Tseng; Elena always talked too much, an observation Reno had made frequently. Shaking his head, Tseng neared the two young women.

"Fabio? Lie! You lie!" Muscles tensed. "I know! You guys did it!"

"That is mortifying. I-" He grabbed the arm as Kyrie tried to lash out in a punch. "I told you, we won't do something that will upset Evan, didn't I?"

No response. The pouting lips trembled. DeVir had once described the girl as 'looking like a startled duck', and Tseng saw where she had come from. She just stood, tense, lost, unsure of what to do.

"Oh, that's right," Elena broke the silence. "Evan's going to get here soon. Got a comm from Es-Aye."

"Where's the change of clothes?"

Tseng could not understand how Kyrie had dealt with the experience and the information she had just received. _Ah well,_ he thought. He'd just have to use Evan; they'd get the JENOVA sample, even if it meant using these young two. Pity was fine but duty came first, and he was a Turk before anything else.

While Kyrie changed, Tseng called the number he had committed to memory. When asking for permission to "perhaps endanger Evan and Kyrie," the man on the other end of the line replied that there was no need to ask for permission. And then he noted the curious connection between the brothers.

The short laughter remained in Tseng's ears long after the speaker was long gone.


	32. Kids being Kids, Kids playing Adults

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - Well, this is more Reno-centric, so we won't be seeing Kadaj's gang for a little while yet... I'm getting a little fed up with the author's bad writing, so I can't wait to finish this arc and dive into the next one. I also find Evan irritating. Maybe that's why...

Reno and Tseng in this chapter. I really wish Rude'd talk more.

Chapter 31: Kids being Kids, Kids playing Adults

* * *

Evan Townsend was currently on a chopper. And he was wondering where the hell he was going.

He didn't really know _why_ he ran away from the chopper; he just had a sense that the chopper - and the pilot - had meant harm, and so he had fled, not really considering the fact that a chopper moved faster than a running human. In hindsight, it was a fairly stupid thing to do. Contrary to his worries, though, the pilot was Rude, and Reno was there as well, with his usual grin. Evan felt a sigh of relief escape his lips, and he cursed himself for it, but the two men's expressions didn't change. Did they miss his sigh?

Or did they not really care?

He said a word of thanks as he climbed into the helicopter, and had explained rather carefully how he had ended up in the badlands in the first place. The roar of the engine was a little hard to compete against, but he tried. He almost expected Reno to make comments, but instead, the two Turks were silent as they listened.

Or were they even listening? Evan wasn't too sure.

"Kyrie, you know," Reno finally broke the silence. "She's placed under protection in Under Junon."

"That's goo- Wait, there're other Turks in Under Junon?"

Reno didn't respond. Neither did Rude, although that was only to be expected. An uncomfortable silence followed. Evan tried to break the insufferable wall by asking questions, but Reno still did not respond, and Rude tersely ordered him to shut up. They weren't the friendly guys Evan had come to know in the past few days; they were the Turks that had knocked him out when they had first met.

_These guys are killers,_ Evan reminded himself. _They__'ve killed people. People like me._

The helicopter moved forward through the air in silence. Moments passed, awkward and stifling, and then Rude nudged Reno, gestured him to look downward. Evan, curious, did as well.

Reno glanced at Rude. _What the fuck is Red XIII doin__' here?_ His frown said. Rude shrugged, unable to answer. The dog - it was a dog, right? - was running, its lopes strong and powerful, its red flaming tail extended in exuberance. The dog finally stopped right under the chopper. It then looked up.

"Can you let me get off? I think he came back to help me. I gotta tell him I'm okay now."

No response. The chopper made no indication it will allow him to disembark. Evan sighed; Nanaki had saved Kyrie's life while he had just panicked, had taken her to Under Junon, and what had he done?

Nothing.

If he was stronger… but that was pointless to think about. He had never been strong, not like his brother; Rufus Shinra was undoubtedly strong, in spirit if not in body. The man was a survivor, and even he could tell that Reno's ilk did not submit easily without reason. Power was the only language that Reno probably understood when it came to obeisance. But Reno was obedient to the president, never wavering, always obeying without question. That kind of loyalty did not come cheaply. And the rest of the Turks too. From what he'd seen, the Turks weren't really the type to submit without a fight, but they were curiously obedient to the president. They could easily kill his brother, but they didn't, instead risking their lives for the man.

"I'm sorry," Evan whispered to himself, pressing his forehead against the glass. "Thanks… you aren't the bad guy. It's my fault, for forgetting the rules in the badlands."

If Reno noticed Evan's depression, he made no comment. Something was happening, he could just smell it, and he wasn't sure what, which unnerved him. His eyes were focused ahead; he was not looking forward to see Junon again, see how far the Shinra had fallen. If Midgar's ruins was the symbol of Shinra's downfall, Junon's fall was the symbol of how far the Shinra had fallen.

Junon was built as a fortress, and it looked it, still now. There was a similar building to the Shinra HQ - probably not in use now - and then the rest was built like a fortress, its eyes glaring toward the west. Under it was the Under Junon, the belly of the fortress where all the people lived, breathed, and moved around, like insects. It was like a smaller, forgotten version of Midgar, the Midgar that had stayed in its childhood until its demise. Reno turned a little, saw Evan leaning forward, and sighed inwardly. Kids were always like this, eager to see new places, not really thinking about the dangers that may lurk in its darkness. They were the ones who got shitty missions as the new-time gangs and ended up as bullet fodders by the likes of him. He'd seen kids like Evan before, fascinated with the new discovery called the night city, getting swallowed up by its maw, chewed up, and being spat back out as mere husks of who they'd been. Or they'd end up like him.

Kids.

Rude veered to the left, away from Junon. Reno wondered for a moment, then noticed the other chopper near the small bay Rude was heading to. Upon closer inspection, he saw a figure in a white dress with a leather jacket, shaking her arms wildly. The sun glinted off the window, and Reno snapped on his goggles, blinking as the sudden sun hit his eyes. For some reason he smelled coffee as he leaned back into the seat, wondered where it was coming from. He was suddenly very thirsty. The smell of plastic rose in the air as the sun warmed the interior of the helicopter, and it was an oddly pleasant smell, a smell of comfort. He had smelled it many times, when Shinra HQ was still around. White, fluffy clouds rose in the distance, like a giant behemoth standing against the blue sky. The weather _was_ weird this year. Arien had been complaining that she never knew what to dress for. The sun reminded him of his childhood in Costa del Sol. Maybe it was the beach.

Evan, not aware of what Reno was thinking, sighed in relief. Kyrie was safe. For now. The fact that the Turks were killers had not left his mind; but then again, the occasional grin Reno showed him seemed to negate that fact. There was a part of him refusing to believe that the redhead had actually killed people; he seemed too affable, too cheerful for that. Rude landed the chopper smoothly, and then Evan hopped off, the two children running toward each other as if they were lovers long-separated.

"Evan!" the girl cried, wrapping her arms around the kid's hip. Reno, who was getting off much more slowly and with less enthusiasm, watched as the two teenagers exchanged words that probably meant nothing to anyone but them. He imagined himself doing that to Arien, then nearly laughed at it. There wasn't much of the starry, fuzzy love that was so common between young people; what they had was the stable partnership that came from risking lives together. But he wondered if Arien was missing out on this kind of fuzzy relationships. She had, after all, skipped on all that and went straight into what they had now. Did she want this?

_Nah. Dunno what she wants, but it ain__'t this._

"Sorry, I was an idiot." Reno's ears caught Evan murmuring to Kyrie. He gathered her into his arms and she buried her face into Evan's chest. Reno pulled out a pack of cigarettes, and lit up. Wanting coffee and knowing that he won't get it anytime soon, he resorted to his other vice. The dry bitterness spread through his mouth, and he regretted lighting up. Now he wanted coffee even more.

"That's okay," Kyrie said into Evan's chest. Reno kept his distance. This wasn't a moment to intrude.

"I'm so relieved."

Rude came up to him, tapped him on the shoulder. Reno turned, saw Rude's expression, and read it, only as long-time partners could. Rude was reminiscing, remembering his own youth, perhaps trying to figure out what he had corrupted within himself, or what he had lost. Evan and Kyrie were harsh reminders of what they had destroyed. Of others, of themselves.

And then they blinked, since the two kids began fleeing.

Or it was more like Kyrie was running, dragging Evan behind him. Reno heard Elena tell them to stop, and then, without giving them a moment to stop, a gunshot sounded. Elena had opened fire. And from the looks of it, she had hit Evan… in the shoulder? He squinted. Did she mean to actually shoot him? Because that was a class A dumb idea. And if she didn't… she needed a remedial crash course on marksmanship, very very soon, because Reno had a feeling the next person she'd miss and accidentally hit might be him. And while he had taken his share of bullets, "oops" wasn't really what he wanted to hear during a gunfight. He already had one trigger-happy coworker who thought that if words didn't work, solid brass would do. Not that he was above judgement, but still.

"That idiot!" Reno hissed, teeth clenched, as he begun to run toward the two. Kyrie had stopped and was looking as if she would burst into tears. He had once told Rude that Kyrie would be the death of Evan Townsend, and it looked like he was right, although not in the manner he had expected. Kyrie's foolishness - and her lack of awareness of what was going on, and the risk assessment - was going to get people killed. Her kind wasn't supposed to be meddling with the Turks and Rufus and the rest. Why was she sticking her head into everything?

Irritated at the entire situation, he yelled at Elena for being careless, while Rude casually slung the body over his shoulder and walked off to Dr Eugene's office. Seeing his buddy walking away, Reno hurriedly followed, then Kyrie, who was saying what sounded like encouragement but made no sense whatsoever upon close observation. Elena was bringing up the rear as the group trooped toward the physician's office. Evan, in the meanwhile, was occasionally moaning in pain - understandable - and then cried, which completely baffled the redhead. He later belatedly remembered that his pain tolerance was almost exponentially high compared to non-modified humans.

The Turks stayed behind in the waiting room as Evan went in. Kyrie followed, then the physician with a nasty grin that really didn't bode well for the patient. Reno pulled his phone out and punched a message in, then hit send. The reply was calm, but he read a plea for him to return soon, hidden within the words.

* * *

"They don't have a fuckin' clue what Fabio's plan was. They totally swallowed the bullshit I fed them," Reno reported as he came into the waiting room. He smelled of coffee, and Tseng wondered when Reno had drank coffee to leave the scent on himself. Under the whiff of his cologne - fainter now - was the bittersweet smell of the beverage, and Tseng noticed that he was thirsty. He could use some coffee himself. Unfortunately, the room he was in supplied no coffee maker for the guests' use.

The Turks - sans one - were now all in Under Junon, and Tseng in particular was sitting in the waiting room. Back straight, he sat like a sculpted statue, while Reno fidgeted and was generally restless. That was Reno, alright, and Tseng finally ordered him to go eavesdrop on the young couple instead of doing everything but sit still. Reno obliged, rather happily. The man couldn't stand still for two minutes unless it was to wait for the target. Usually DeVir put a leash on him, keeping him in check, or Rude. But neither was here to keep the hyperactive squirrel quiet, and Tseng was having a hard time concentrating on his thoughts with Reno moving every which way.

"Are you sure?" Tseng asked.

"Yeah, he's cryin'. Don't think Kyrie can fib that, let alone Evan."

"How do you think about Fabio saying this was all for Evan?"

"Dunno. But the source of that story's Slop, right? Can we really believe it?" He shook his head, then sat on the same sofa, a little away from Tseng. He leaned forward, elbows on knees, looking at the ground. It was Reno thinking. That never really bode well. Reno was a doer, not a thinker. He moved first, figuring things out along the way.

"Well, let's say I'll beat it out of Slop if necessary later. Hey, Chief, I gotta ask you somethin'."

"What is it?"

"Evan was supposedly lookin' for his missin' ma. Said he was going to Nibelheim. Turns out, they were talking about giving up, back in the room, just now, but…" Reno paused, fidgeted. "Can we take him there? It's just a short flight on the chopper."

"Nibelheim, is it?" Tseng's interest was piqued.

"It's not that far on the chopper, right?"

"Very well." Tseng leaned back, crossing his arms. "But-"

Reno wasn't listening. "There ya go, Chief!" He said with glee. "I knew you'd get it!"

Tseng waited for Reno's burst of excitement to calm down, then dropped the bomb. "However, Elena and I will take him," he said, seriously putting a damper on Reno's jovial mood. The redhead was far too affable to those who weren't his victims, as if that made up for all the crap he'd done. Well, they all had different methods of self-flagellation. Reno's seemed to be 'befriend people then watch them as they hate your guts'. It didn't seem to be particularly healthy, but Tseng let it go.

"Lovable Shinra is fine," he said, "but jokable Shinra is intolerable."

"You think I'm gettin' punked?"

"I don't know. But you back them too much. It is not a good sign, Reno."

"But it's the prez's own bro."

Ah, family ties. Tseng knew that Reno had an extremely bad relationship with his own brother; perhaps this was some projection of his own empty hopes of a happy family? Either way, he decided to carry things out as business-like as possible. It won't be easy to convince this secretly tender-hearted subordinate otherwise. Best to keep him out, if possible. Elena was oddly cold-hearted when it came to things like this; she would be a better pick.

"I want you and Rude to continue what we've been doing," Tseng continued without missing a beat. "Remain here, and man the comm for any reports from our… former members."

"Sure, but-"

"It's not a bad thing to catch up with old acquaintances, Reno."

Reno looked at Tseng sourly. Tseng ignored it. Reno looked at his boss for a few more moments, but finally relented, sighing.

"Hey, Chief," he finally said, "take care of Evan, 'kay?"

Tseng did not answer as he left. He went directly to Elena, informing her that they'd be flying to Nibelheim as soon as the kids woke up. Elena said nothing as she went straight into the room where Evan and Kyrie had disappeared into. Just as she entered, Eugene came out with an odd look on his face.

"What is it?" Tseng asked.

"The boy? He's up and running about," said the physician, rubbing his forehead with a towel. "He had a bullet wound. Shattered the shoulder blade. Should be passed out from the pain."

_What is going on?_ The physician's expression said. Tseng watched as Eugene disappeared into the back, then listened to Elena's conversation with Evan and Kyrie.

"It doesn't hurt, right?" Elena was saying beyond the door. "That doc said your shoulder bone's shattered. Maybe the op was actually easy, and he extended the op time too. Oh well. Anyway, can you wake her up? We're going."

Elena really needed to add more context to what she was saying. And say less.

"Go where?" Evan asked, predictably.

"Aren't you going to Nibelheim?" Elena's voice again. "If you can get up, then let's get going."

Tseng nearly sighed. This was going to convince no one. He did not require the interrogation skills on the level of DeVir, but she was almost as bad as Rude.

"Why're the Turks going?" Evan asked.

"As an apology. Since I shot you. But it's your fault, for trying to run away."

_That__'s not really an apology, Elena._Tseng made a mental note to reprimand her later. And sure enough, Evan caught on it, for the response was, "That's okay. If there isn't a problem, then maybe we should go our separate ways-"

And then Kyrie's voice. "Evan, maybe we should go with them."

Huh. Kyrie was seriously going to get Evan killed one day. Elena aparently told the two to talk it out, since she walked out of the room, looking frustrated. She plopped down next to where Tseng was sitting, picking at her cuticles silently, waiting for Kyrie to talk Evan into going. Or whatever they did. Tseng had long since figured out that Evan was just along for the ride, and that Kyrie was the one deciding everything; in fact, Evan did nothing except to impress Kyrie, which was what was going to get him killed someday. In Tseng's experience, you only survived when you should have died because you had a purpose for yourself. Doing it for others… that tended to lead up to slipping and otherwise avoidable mistakes. Then they couldn't persevere because they weren't doing it for themselves.

A few moments later, Kyrie came out. "We'll go with you," she said. Tseng nodded, his eyes cold as ice.

_No need to ask for my permission,_ Rufus had said. Tseng squashed the tiny voice asking him whether it was right to involve these two youngsters. That wasn't his concern. If these kids wanted to stick their heads into danger, then he wasn't about to stop them.


	33. Open Fire

Bloodwitch Raven - Not sure yet. Maybe? the actual novel's riddled with plot holes that are so wide you'll need to take a bus to get from one side to another; I'm filling in some, taking creative license. (I just wanna get this part over with, truth be told.)

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - Mitchie's still in the Edge, so she'll be showing up soon, when the Turks return to the city. Right now they're kind of running around screaming in the north.

More Tseng, Elena, Reno and Rude! Nearly done, yippee-ki-yey.

Chapter 32: Open Fire

* * *

Under Junon was boring as hell. The beach house was comfortable enough, but Reno wasn't used to just sitting around and eating grapes when there was something happening. About the only benefit of being a Turk was that you got to be in the dead centre of whatever shit that was happening, and he really didn't like being out of the loop. Tseng was apparently patching Arien in for any comm, but when he asked, Arien curtly said that she had been ordered not to speak about it. And Reno knew better than to prod. Once she clamped her mouth shut, no amount of cajoling could get information out of her. Well, information that had to do with the sector, at least. Personal life… that was another matter entirely.

Nobody was showing up, and Reno was getting irritated.

"I just can't," he murmured as he tapped his foot against the floor in impatience. Rude, who was sitting on the sofa and reading the newspaper, looked up. Reno turned away from the window, pushing away from the wall with his arm that he was leaning on.

"Can't what?" his buddy asked.

"There's no fuckin' way we'd get JENOVA's info that easily," Reno explained. "That sorta shit don't just come floatin' in."

"Well, of course," said the bald man placidly.

"Isn't it our job to run around, fly around, getting this sort of stuff?"

"Yes."

"So are we gonna go?"

"Do you have an idea?"

"Nope."

This sort of conversation would have made little sense to a bystander, but Reno and Rude hadn't been partners for years for nothing. Over time they just developed their own lingo, their own secret keywords, cues that only worked with each other. Arien narrowed her eyes ever so slightly when she was asking him to repeat something; Elena would purse her lips before she'd say no, and Tseng had a habit of pinching the bridge of his nose when he was about to scold someone. But Rude was the one he read the best, especially since the man rarely spoke. He wondered briefly what sort of habits _he_ had, but then Rude was gesturing again, and he lost the train of thought.

"Hey," Rude said, jerking his chin. Reno looked. Two men. Looking for someone, from the way they were looking around, their eyes focusing on people's faces and not the landmarks. They weren't tourists. Who were they looking for?

"Hey! Hey!" Reno shouted, raising his arm to get attention. He could see one of the two men; it was Doyle, the man who was working on the memorial. Reno frowned for a moment. The other man was in view now, and Reno immediately tensed. He didn't look an amateur. The left hand had a black leather glove on, and it wasn't for riding bikes. The guy could be violent, he could just smell it.

Better safe than sorry.

He surreptitiously checked his baton, found it in easy reach. Good. Doyle was well within reach now, and so was the other man.

"Reno. Rude. What are you doing here?" Doyle asked.

"Can ya introduce us before that? Who's that tough guy next to ya?" He felt Rude tense behind him.

"I'm Leslie. Evan and Kyrie's friend."

That word again. _Friend._ What the hell did that even mean? For Reno, friendship didn't mean much; Axil wasn't exactly a _friend_. They'd bled together, and that sort of went beyond friendship. In his world, there were coworkers, enemies, girls he slept with, buddy, Arien, and bosses. Friendship didn't fit in a pigeonhole, and so he had left the word alone, never really stopping to think about it. He glanced at his partner, saw Rude staring at Leslie's black-clad hand as well. Reno moved his wrist a little, making sure that the band settled comfortably. When push came to shove, he'd have to move, and quickly. Leslie was no amateur, if Rude was looking at him like that.

"Looks like you guys were in a hurry," he noted, really wishing for Arien's pistols.

"We came looking for Evan. Oh yeah, we borrowed the truck in the square."

Reno shrugged at Doyle's comment. That truck was worth about two gils, tops. It was a glorified tin can with an engine, and both ladies hated riding in it, so even if Doyle had blown it up, it had been no great loss.

Leslie was looking at Rude. "Evan was saying that he was going to Nibelheim, looks like," the man said to no one in particular. "To do that, you need to stop here and cross the sea. So we thought he might be-"

"What's up with Evan?" Reno interrupted.

"Apparently, he'll die if nothing's done."

"What the hell?" Reno blurted out. _Wow, can you get more vague?_ He doubted it. It was one of those statements that had very little informational value, and to be honest, if Leslie was trying to withhold information he couldn't get more amateur. Arien would have fed just enough information to sate the curiosity without giving away the crucial details. That was how the pros did it.

"Isn't it because you boxed him?" Leslie took a step forward, and Reno tensed, his right foot taking a step forward. His red hair rustled, and Rude saw Reno's face lose its sarcastic grin for a flickering moment, replaced by the face of a killer. And Leslie didn't notice it. Doyle took a step forward as well, but this one was to stop the two men from breaking out in a fight. The winner was rather obvious. Reno hadn't fought his way through the career as a Turk for nothing, and in all honesty it was likely the redhead would feel nothing at killing this man. He'd be just another name on a long list of names. "Kill now, regret it later" was a common theme for the Turks.

_Not quite a pro, eh?_

"What d'you mean?" Reno demanded.

"Fabio, the day before he died, he took his brother to the hospital. Was told by that doctor to take Evan to his doctor as soon as possible. That's why he was trying to find Evan with a helicopter-"

"Where the hell did you get that story?"

"Fabio's brother," Doyle answered. All Leslie did was glare; Rude glared back from beyond his sunglasses. Reno's face had not even twitched. Didn't Leslie realise that Reno was a killer? A professional would notice it right away.

"Yeah, sure, but if that's the case then why the hell didn't he straight up tell us? Why the fuck did he throw a bomb?!"

"To Fabio, you're his parents' murderers."

Which was a dumb reason to get yourself killed over. _Kids_. They always did something stupid and died. Honour and justice meant batcrap shit when you were dead; first order of business was to survive, and it was something that everyone who entered a battlefield, be it Wutai or just the streets, learned quickly. If you didn't, you ended up dead. Taking emotions over practicality was a fairly good way to get yourself - and possibly your teammates - killed, and the Turks had always learned quickly to detach their emotional side from their game faces.

_So that kid took stupid sentiments over finding his friend and keeping himself alive. Guess it serves him right._

Of course Reno didn't say anything. He wasn't _that_ stupid. It was Rude who broke the silence.

"Let's go," the man said. "We're going after Evan."

* * *

Arien sat, monitoring the progress of the chopper. The bright red flashing dot represented Reno and Rude, the blue was Elena and Tseng, and the dots were making their way up the map. She had her headset on. The sunlight streamed through the window, making the screen glare, and she narrowed her eyes as she adjusted the angle. Both microphones were on, and so she could hear everything; she could hear Reno's breaths, Rude's softer ones, Elena's chirps, Tseng's hair rustling against the microphone. She touched her neck, feeling as if they were all breathing down her neck at once. It was an uncomfortable feeling.

"So," Rufus Shinra said, his cold, beautiful face impassive, "Kadaj, is it?"

Arien made no response. Elena had accidentally told Reno where they were - she really needed to learn to keep her mouth shut, or it was going to get someone killed someday - and so the two Turks were heading to icicle Lodge. Elena and Tseng were already there, and they had encountered… a thing. A monster, Tseng said, but it looked human. It also had eerily similar traits to-

"JENOVA," Rufus said.

This time, Arien nodded. Evan Townsend and Kyrie Kanan had run into this Kadaj thing, and it had called JENOVA its mother. Reports had said that Sephiroth had done the same; she narrowed her eyes as she concentrated on the commotion. The entire lodge area seemed to be burning, from the radio reports and the screams that filtered through the headphone and into her ears.

And then, the explosive percussives that told Arien someone had opened fire.

She sighed. There wasn't much she could do, here in Healin; if she was there, she might have been able to support them, but right now, all she could do was monitor. "Reno," she said, "you might want to hurry."

"What? What's goin' on?"

"Not sure, but Tseng just opened fire. Not pistols."

"God-damn mother-fuckin' shit!" Reno swore, then she heard him telling Rude to hurry up, they didn't have much time.

"Chief, it's there. What do we do?" Elena.

_What__'s there_?

"Use the missile." Tseng's voice. Cold and detached.

"But Evan-"

"No matter."

"But he's the president's brother, right? I shot him, so I'm really scared that I might get fired-"

_Elena did what?!_ Arien considered asking, then refrained. It sounded like Tseng and Elena weren't in any position to answer her questions. She wished for a mountable camera on the chopper, but things were scarce and they hadn't gotten around to installing them. Just the recorders, and the microphones.

"Did you not hear what I said? 'No matter'." Then silence, except for the explosive noise of the chopper. She removed the headset from her head, rubbed her ears. Rufus was gesturing.

"What's going on?" Rufus asked.

"Tseng and Elena are in open combat," she reported. "Reno and Rude are heading to Icicle Lodge, ETA ten minutes."

"And Kadaj?"

"I'm not entire sure, but-"

"Guess would be fine," said the blond president.

"My guess is that Elena and Tseng are fighting them, sir. It-" she saw the flashing red on the screen, signalling that Elena or Tseng was trying to contact Reno. She jammed the headset on, and was just in time to hear Reno's voice.

"Nearly there. What the fuck-"

"Where's Evan!" said an unfamiliar voice.

"Go beyond the village, to the Northern Plains. We're going to eliminate the target. Open fire."

"Target?!" Reno again. Elena seemed to have ignored his exclamation, since she continued on with her questions.

"How long will it take for you to get here?"

"You're in sight," Rude's voice said. Arien spun the laptop, showing the screen to Rufus. The missile was being armed, ready to fire. She frowned, and Rufus nodded.

"Reno, get ready."

"Sure." Some noise, then that unfamiliar voice asking what the enemy was, and Reno answering that he hadn't a clue. She heard the clatter of metal, the scream of a drill, then that unfamiliar voice again, asking whether they were going to attack without knowing what the enemy was. "You see that chopper over there?" Reno was saying. "Our boss's on there. When the order comes, we obey. That's what it means to be in an organisation, man."

"Pitiful."

"In your lingo, whatchamacallit? Friends? Same thing."

"Sir, here they come." Elena.

"Rude, go over us and head north, then reverse. Give a curtain fire and cut off their exit. We're going to fire the missile."

"Sir, they're going to use the missile," Arien reported to Rufus. He did not move. That was only to be expected; Rude responded with a "roger that". But then, nothing came. No _rat-tat-tat_ of an automatic, no explosion, nothing. Just the steady drone of an engine.

"That idiot," Reno murmured.

_What is going on?_

"What's wrong? Shoot!" Tseng's voice. Then Rude, telling Tseng that Evan was there. Then Tseng, telling them to shoot anyway, since Evan was already dead.

"Can't." Reno again.

"Reno!"

"'Cause he's a friend."

Arien blinked. Reno had friends? Well, Axil was a friend, or as close to a friend as Reno might get, but it was very rare to hear him say that word.

"Understood. Explain what happened-" There was a click, then Tseng's voice continued, "and make it short." With that, the light showing that Reno and Rude's chopper comm was on flickered and turned dark on her screen. Someone had switched off the communication unit on the chopper. Probably Rude.

Now what?

"Elena, we're going solo. Stabilise the nose."

A pause. A pregnant pause. Then, "yes sir."

"Are you Evan's 'friend' as well?" Tseng's inflection told anyone listening that the term was said with more than a little sarcasm.

"No, but Reno-"

"Switch the pilot system. I'll do it."

Ah, but Elena couldn't have that, could she? The last thing she wanted was for this man to find her useless. And sure enough, Arien heard a high-strung "I'll do it! I'll pilot!"

Well, this was going to either get stupidly messy, or just stupid. She tapped on the key, activating the channel to speak to Reno's headset, hoping that it hadn't been turned off. She knew Reno wasn't that stupid, but he sounded… torn between what he was ordered to do, and what his conscience told him to do. And that sort of thing could kill him.

And gods be damned if he died.

"Reno, come in. Come in, Reno." She almost expected no answer, and then she tensed when she heard his voice speak her name. Well, technically, her surname. He never spoke her first name when he was on the job.

"Yo," he said. "What's up?"

"Get ready to jump," she said tersely.

"Why?"

"Because, if it's any indication, what you're fighting is going to cause a mess. Be ready to jump."

"O…kay." The comm died, and Reno, in the seat next to Rude, stared ahead. Arien sounded tense. What did she know? About as much as he did, probably; but where most people put two and two and got four, Arien had a knack to see another two come in and give a six. Up ahead, Elena seemed to be struggling to hover the helicopter, and Tseng was… doing something else. Then he looked up, and said something, but since Rude had switched off the comm, they couldn't hear anything. Then the chopper began to rise, reversing the vehicle toward the village. Good plan, considering that Elena couldn't hover the aircraft very well. Probably Tseng's idea.

"Now what?" Reno asked.

"Tseng's going to do it."

"No, buddy. Talkin' 'bout you."

"I don't like Evan."

"Yeah, I know."

"But I don't dislike Kyrie."

Reno looked down; Kyrie, in a red jacket and boots on bare feet, seemed to be trying to climb the wall of ice. And was spectacularly failing. Evan was nearby, crawling. And a kid with silver hair, a slender blade in hand.

Silver?

_So that__'s what she was talkin' about. No wonder she sounded tense._

How Arien had known, he didn't know, but it sounded like Arien had an idea of what that… silver thing was.

The silver thing also looked like a teenager.

"That kid's our target?!" Reno blurted. He heard Rude snort.

"Since two years ago, our enemies are usually kids," the bald man said as he focused on the scene up ahead. The sun shone brilliantly into their eyes, and Reno shielded his eyes with his hand.

"You got that right," he answered lamely. The drone of the engine filled his ears, and he nearly didn't catch the blips of voice with his headphones on. "What?" He turned, hearing Leslie's voice at an alarmingly close range. The man was in front of the firearm. He was getting ready to fire thing. Reno narrowed his eyes ever so slightly.

"Rude, hurry up and lower the altitude. I might hit Evan," he said.

"We just have to defeat that guy with a sword, right?" Doyle added, hand on the lever to open the door.

_Amateurs. Always amateurs. Why can__'t we get a pro for once?_

But Reno said nothing; instead, Rude snapped at them, telling them that amateurs should not be ordering them around. But he raised the altitude anyway, and then the door was opened, and the harsh sound of the wind came streaming inside. And then-

"Someone opened fire," Arien reported. She could hear the wails of the wind, a screaming dirge, the sound of the motor, and the _rat-tat-tat_ of the firearm. But it wasn't Reno; he had a habit of slapping it before firing, probably from handling HKs. But no such sound was heard. Who was it? Must be the two mysterious voices.

"Did they…?" Rufus asked. Arien shook her head when she heard the voices again. Voices of dismay. Whoever that thing was, the bullets had not ended its life. Then suddenly Reno was saying that Tseng was going to crash into them, then mysterious mook #1 was saying something about "that one too", and then a sharp sound of glass shattering and Reno's cry.

In fact, the silver-haired boy had jumped a good ten metres and had landed on the nose, smashing the blade into the fortified glass, shattering the pane. The tip of the blade had stopped just in front of Reno's nose, who had reflexively slammed himself into the seat, narrowly avoiding getting skewered.

"The fuck?! That thing's a monster!" Reno was shouting. The sound of the wind was even louder now, Reno barely audible above the din. Rude was shouting about "amateurs, jump" or something like that, then screams. Rude said something about going up, then Reno asking "where?" then a voice - a young voice, a boy's voice - tauntingly telling them that he was "this way".

The monster was in the chopper.

With Reno and Rude, both of whom were not prepared for combat.

"How fun!" the monster said. She could almost see Reno and Rude look at each other, a split second of communication that only those who had fought together for so long could do, then Reno made a quip.

"Go play by yourself."

Then, a deafening explosion hit Arien's ears. She ripped her headphones off, eyes wide. The silence that followed was even more deafening than the explosion itself.


	34. A Steady Heartbeat

Bloodwitch Raven - killing Reno off would pretty much end the series. Which is at times a tempting thought, buuut... it won't be happening anytime soon.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - I'm guessing you're excited. I'm just glad this arc is nearly over. A bit of character evolving for our redhead, I hope.

Chapter 33: A Steady Heartbeat

* * *

The chopper, hit by the missile regurgitated from the other helicopter, exploded in mid-air. Reno had managed to land on his feet - he really needed to stop jumping out from really high places - and dusted himself off. Tiny snowflakes peppered his trousers, melting with his body heat into water droplets, only to freeze again in the low temperature. Rude had managed to land on his feet as well, although he didn't immediately stand up. The burning chopper was now a mound of flames some distance away, a large bonfire that was melting the snow around it. Not that it mattered. It was like throwing dixie cups of water against the desert. Reno's pocket, or its contents, vibrated against his thigh. Digging through, he finally got his phone out. It was Arien. How predictable.

"Don't get your panties in a bunch, we're fine," said the redhead into the phone instead of a simple "hello" as normal people were wont to do. He heard an audible sigh, her talking to someone else - Rufus, probably - and then she asked what had happened to the chopper.

"It exploded," he replied.

"It _what_?"

"It exploded. Or, technically, Tseng blew it up." He grinned. "It's this huge bonfire now."

"Whatever. At least you're safe. Bye." The phone turned silent. What a loving call indeed. But then again, Arien was on the job, just like everyone else, and idle chitchat and "I love you" were not appropriate conversations at the moment. He slid the phone back into the pocket, gazed into the distance. Evan and Kyrie had fallen or slid into one of the many holes that riddled this world of ice. He was concerned, and wasn't sure why, except that maybe he wished he had someone who had looked over him when he was younger. He had done some stupid things, and luck was the only reason he had made it to this day.

"Marshmallows," Reno muttered.

"Hm?"

"We should've brought marshmallows." He grinned. "Roast it in the fire."

Rude looked at him, saw his grinning face, and shrugged. The wind slapped against the two, and Reno lit up, took a long drag. "Damn, it's cold."

Rude said nothing.

Tseng - or Elena - had managed to land the chopper without crashing it into pieces. The rotating blades slowed to a halt, and with it, the powdery maelstrom of snow died as well. The four remained silent, staring into the distance, then Tseng broke the cold silence.

"It's getting rough," was the comment.

"So, now what?"

Rude looked at his partner. Reno wasn't amused; his eyebrows did not have the usual slant of a lazy smile, and his mouth was drawn in a stern line.

"Elena and I will return to Under Junon. Back to square one, so to speak. Rude, you'll return with us. We'll drop you off in Healin."

"Healin?" Rude frowned.

"There's chopper three. You can come and get Reno and the rest with it."

Reno and Rude looked at each other, completely confused. Tseng watched his subordinates flounder in the sea of logic, then decided to rescue them from wasting brain cells on mysteries that could easily be solved by a sentence.

"You're going to stay behind and look for them, aren't you?" He asked, his eyes catching the slight forms of two men - Doyle and Leslie, and where had they gotten a rope? - and seeing Tseng's gaze, Reno looked as well. He nodded, wordless, his face filled with relief. Again, Tseng was reminded that Reno was just incapable of being _cold_. He himself had long ago given up of trying to be the 'good guy' - Turks weren't the good guys, period - but Reno seemed to cling onto that hope. It had gotten worse ever since he had gotten together with DeVir. Maybe she was a bad influence. But she also seemed to be the one to be cobbling what remained of his scant sanity together, and so he said nothing, and decided to say nothing about it in the future.

"Rude'll call you when he's on his way," Tseng said, walking toward the remaining chopper. Elena followed without a pause, but Rude clapped him on a shoulder.

_Do well,_ said his partner's eyes. Reno nodded, silently, because he didn't have anything else to say. He watched, without waving or doing anything, as the chopper took off smoothly into the air, then watched as it moved away from him. He remained, watching, until the helicopter was nothing more than a tiny black fleck in the eerily blue sky. He then slid his phone out, and dialled.

"Arie," he said.

She noticed the name right away, and her tone was the voice of the woman he knew only in their privacy. This wasn't a job call; this was just giving a heads up on where he was, and where he was going to be. He had sensed - even without Arien telling him anything - that the thing that nearly stabbed him in the eye was not to be trifled with. There was a cool, quiet voice telling him that he may not come back. He wasn't on the level to fight with that… thing. He wasn't equipped well enough, and he was going to be alone, and even with proper equipment it was unlikely he'd come out the victor if he encountered that thing. Which was why he had called. Because he wanted to hear her voice.

"Listen," he continued, "I'm gonna look for the kids… yeah. Yeah. I know." Her voice was worried, but she seemed to understand why he had called. "I'll be careful." He wanted to tell her that she was dear to him, and if that was what people called love, then well, that was what it was. But he didn't. He didn't know. And he was aware, somehow, that she knew that he couldn't say it, nor did she expect him to.

"Just come back in time for dinner," she said. "We're having chicken cacciatore."

"I better finish this quick, then."

"That's a good idea, yes."

Even after the call ended, he stood still for a few moments. She knew. He knew. And yet, there were no sobs, no begging to just ditch and return… instead, she merely told him to come back, trusting in him to not die. He began to walk, the snow crunching under his feet, the cold wind pincering his skin. Alone, in this desolate place, he had never felt more alive; even when dodging bullets he had never felt everything so vividly. The white seemed whiter, the sun harsher with its rays. He could feel his muscles move, fibre by fibre, his skin was like one massive sensory organ, he could feel his lungs deflating and expanding as he breathed, and the heart was pounding in his chest.

One step forward, then another. Then another. He might die alone, here, where only the dead seemed to be aware of what was happening. But, at least, he was alive this moment, and as he stood on the precipice, the white field burned into his memory, fierce, pristine, and uncaring. The cold was harsh, aggressive, but every painful sensation he received was a reminder that he was alive. He stood, looked down the hole. It almost looked like a rabbit hole, but he could see between the cracks that there was a hollow space below.

Were they down there?

Was it even possible?

Well, one way to know. He stuffed his hands in his pockets; the cam gear were still in his pockets, and for once he thanked his forgetfulness. He had forgotten to take them out after using them to get into Corneo's place. He tossed the gadgets that vaguely looked like lemons made of wire and steel rods, then considered the options. There weren't that many.

"Well," he said to himself, "one way to find out, Reno." He attached the gear to the belt, yanked on it, felt the steel wires extend. Expanding the metal spikes like opening a bud of a flower, he slammed the spikes deep into the ground, then pushed the pin down, locking it so that it would not come out. When it was thrown, the cam would do all of this by itself, but it only worked when it was thrown upwards. He tested it, yanking on it. Satisfied with the cam, he stood at the edge. The hole was deep, but there was a faint glow coming from the walls, a soft green light that was reminiscent of the day when Lifestream poured out of the ground. That day, everything had ended. Or so everyone had believed. But life went on.

He jumped.

* * *

Reno had never known that there was a network of tunnels under the ice, had thought it unlikely. There had been a similar system under Midgar, a regular hangout for anyone who could not dare show his or her face to the world, and as a Turk, he had been intimate with the filthy tunnels of Midgar, filled with the soft howls of the fetid winds that carried the smell of the sewers. These tunnels seemed to be the ice equivalent of it; there weren't any bad odours that assaulted his nose, but instead the wind was decidedly cold and unwilling to give in.

"I should've brought a jacket," he said to himself. The snow squeaked under his left foot. His breaths came out in white plumes. He walked a few steps, touched the wall; there was a soft thrum, like a heartbeat, that he could feel beneath the fingertips. The walls seemed to be made of ice, and here and there he could see green light as if the tunnels were alive and the lights were veins. The lights pulsed.

"Holy damn," he murmured. "This is… this was made by the Lifestream?!"

But it had to be. The tunnels must have been made when the Lifestream erupted from the ground, that day; the light must have travelled underground, each strand burrowing and tunnelling, resulting in this maze. This must be one of the paths the light had travelled, to come to Midgar, to destroy the Meteor. It seemed so long ago, but he reminded himself that it had only been a year or so. Time flew. Knowing that it was futile, he pulled his phone out and checked the reception anyway. There were no bars. It wasn't much of a surprise, but there was now a live chance that he might freeze to death if things got really bad. His body would compensate body heat for a while, but as a rule, the Turks burned through calories faster than a normal human being.

Well, he'll cross that bridge when he came to it.

He walked back to the hole he had jumped into; the cam was still there, the metal wire attached to his hip, his lifeline. He had to climb out of here; there was no way he'd find them like this. The metal wire was a bit too slender for him to grasp properly, but he climbed anyway, wishing that the walls were closer so he could use them as leverage, but he'd have to make do. The climb took a bit longer than he had expected, and when he had finally crawled out of the hole like a worm, he was sweating. The cold wind continued to blow, stealing his heat. He unlocked the cam, releasing its hold onto the ground, then stashed them back into his pocket. With that, he dusted himself off, and walked on.

There were holes here and there, apparently leading to the tunnels below. The wind howled, making high-pitched whistles that were eerie, even to his ears. It was like a scream or a howl, shrieking for some unfulfilled vengeance. He ignored it, well aware that he - well, the company he had sold his allegiance to - had long crossed the line that had divided mere mortals from whatever godly forces that were out there. Shinra had messed with what was forbidden, and everyone was paying the price now. He did not change his pace when two figures came into his view, first as black specks, but then as he got closer, as humanoid shapes sitting on the ground.

Leslie and Doyle were resting. Or, that was what he had assumed they were doing; a coil of rope was around Doyle's shoulder, and he wondered where he had gotten such a thing. Did the chopper have a store? Maybe; the chopper had a lot of stuff in the back, last he recalled, from blankets to emergency rations to all sorts of miscellanea that a Turk might need in an emergency. Maybe Doyle had found it in the back, had taken it when they had jumped. No matter. What they should've brought along was a blanket, but apparently their concerns hadn't quite extended to the actual logistics of this rescue mission.

"Whatcha doin'?" Reno casually asked. Leslie took a step forward; Reno merely stood. No hands raised, nothing. He just stood, hands in his pockets, his head cocked to the side, as always.

"We-"

"Why're you here?" Leslie demanded. Reno shrugged.

"Those kids're gonna need a rescue," he said simply.

"We don't need you."

"And what? You're gonna walk all the way to the nearest civilisation? 'Cause the closest village is ashes." He waved a hand; scars were visible, faint and silvery, on the palms. "If you wanna make the kid walk, then you're one fucked-up guy."

"What the hell do you mean?"

Reno raised an eyebrow. "The tunnels," he murmured. "It stinks of blood. And not old blood, I'm talking new and fresh. Someone's bleeding out there. Ten gils it's one of the kids."

"You're a damn rotten liar, Turk."

Reno simply looked at Leslie. Doyle was awfully silent.

And Leslie looked, and saw the invisible scars from his eyes, the scars of the soul, realised that whatever hardship he, Leslie, had experienced, this redhead had experienced a hundred times worse. The world had nearly ended, only a year ago, and the scars were fresh upon the city, and Reno's aquamarine eyes were almost like a reflection of the deep wound that was still seeping pus. He finally looked away, unable to look into the redhead's eyes any longer. It was like a gaping maw, ready to swallow him up into its darkness. Leslie had more than just simple destruction to live for. He had Marle, and he had a family, and he had friends.

"I can get us outta here," Reno said. "But we need to find the kids first. If we stay here for too long, we're gonna be of no use to nobody."

"But how?" asked Doyle, who had been silent for all this time.

"One of them's injured, they're not gonna walk out of range," Reno replied. "I've gone below and you're gonna need climbing gear to get outta there, which they don't have. Which means…" he pointed down. "One of us'll have to go down below, wait for them. If we just move around, we're never gonna run into them. We gotta wait for them to come to us."

"And who's going to go down?" Leslie demanded. Reno grinned.

"I am," he said. "I'm probably the quickest. Besides, I can get back out without you guys."

The two looked dubious, but agreed in the end. Reno got down, and slid his body down between the cracks; he didn't leave the cam out this time, but instead threw it at the ceiling as soon as he landed on his feet. Damn, it was cold. The length of the wire didn't allow him to sit, so he leaned on the wall. A quick search told him that he was out of cigarettes. Double damn.

The two men above him were talking, but he didn't feel like joining the conversation, so he merely remained silent. Minutes passed, turned into five, then ten. He shifted, switching the foot he put the weight on. He could almost feel his body desperately trying to keep going, to clung onto the heat. Rubbing his arms over the clothes, he waited, silent. The wind was no company.

And then…

"Hey!"

It was a familiar voice. A boy's voice, untried, without all the damage done to the vocal cords by the alcohol and the cigarette fumes. Evan. Reno did not move; he didn't see the need to. The voices got closer, and then they were in view.

Kyrie looked as if she was about to freeze to death; her bare legs made him feel colder, the skin turning whitish. Evan was leaning onto the girl slightly, who was leaning back onto him, as if even just breathing was a chore; there was blood visible on his jacket, although it seemed to be a little too brownish to be called fresh. And from the way he moved, he was just tired, not hurt. But Reno was pretty sure the kid had been injured, the last time the kid was above ground. Now, they just looked fatigued, worn out. Did he have access to a materia or something?

But he wouldn't be able to use it anyway; to untrained users, materia were just pretty, shiny baubles. It didn't look like the kid knew how to activate them.

"Evan?!" Leslie's voice came from down below.

"I'm here too!" The girl cried - she would have jumped up and down, but her legs wouldn't allow her - and then another voice came down the hole. Doyle's.

"Stay still!"

"We made it!"

Reno continued to watch as the two youths hugged each other, as if the world's problems had ended. And then he decided he had had enough of this slightly nauseating starry-eyed love scene. Life was shit, and someday, these kids will learn it; but for now, he needed to get back to Healin, where he had his own girl waiting for him with a warm dinner. Suddenly he felt all the fatigue wash over him, as if something had decided that now would be a good time to feel tired, since the dangers had passed.

"You guys, cut it out," he snapped.

The kids automatically looked up. _Are these kids deaf?_

"Over here," he said, again. The words came out in a cloud of white. The kids turned their heads, saw the redheaded lanky man leaning onto the wall, hands jammed into the pockets. His cheeks were red, but his nose wasn't, and he looked bored. He kicked off with his left foot away from the wall to get back to his feet, then coolly observed them, his expression still sardonic and almost mocking. It looked like he didn't feel cold; at least, there was no shivering, no trembling that indicated any level of discomfort.

"It's cold," said the boy.

"Whose fault is that?" asked the girl.

Reno pointed, wordless, at the two youths. They pointed back at him.


	35. A Life's Blood, A Life's Meaning

Many apologies to those of you who were dismayed that I didn't upload last Saturday. I had a flurry of stuff to take care of, and I was exhausted afterward and my brain had decided to take a vacation. Here it is... and we'll be back on schedule this Friday.

Bloodwitch Raven - that's actually the best compliment I can get, since I sort of write this as if I'm transcribing a movie. If it's that action-packed and quick-paced, well, go me! Sometimes I worry about the pace, since I do set a word quota and I need to find a good place to cut off the chapter each time.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - I'm done with the novel arc. Now some interim, some stuff that I've been planning for the two for _ages_, and then into ACC. A little nicer Reno, maybe... or not. I never really thought of Reno as a puckish rogue with a heart of gold. He's more of a dark, twisted assassin for me.

Chapter 34: A Life's Blood, A Life's Meaning

* * *

Arien hated waiting.

It wasn't just because she was a Turk, surely not; she had never been the type to be able to sit still without anything to do. Waiting in the anticipation of the time to come for the next action, that she could sit for. But this… she was feeling anxious. And anxiety was not a feeling she was good friends with.

Outwardly, she did her tasks as always, without any indication that she was not really her usual self. She cooked, just like always, cleaned the kitchen, aired out the bedding for the bed she shared with Reno. The entire room smelled of him, masculine even within the sweetness.

She was afraid. She was truly afraid that he might not come back, even more so because she felt as if her time was running out. She knew it technically wasn't; that whether he came back or not had little impact on whether she'd die before seeing him again; but the constant reminder of her mortality put a sort of a rush to her sense of time, and she was afraid of not being able to say what she truly felt before the final goodbyes. Not that she thought she'd ever say them. Reno probably didn't care for it; he wanted a partner, not a simpering woman in tears.

But still.

She was chopping onions when it happened. She had not really realised it until the blood welled, and she stared at it blankly for a moment, wondering why her fingertip was suddenly red. The pain came two moments later, far too late in her opinion, a slice that nearly cut off the fingertip in its entirety. It looked oddly ugly, and she observed it with a detachment as if it was happening to someone else, as if the flesh that was hanging onto her hand by what couldn't be more than a piece of skin was not hers.

Then she realised: _I__'m bleeding. Better take care of it._

It was a bit of a surprise for her to realise that she had not felt the pain right away, nor that she had registered that it had been her own injury. She needed to snap out of this soon, before Reno came back; but she felt as if she was slowly drifting away from her existence, as if her soul was getting ready to die, even if her mind was not. It was an odd sensation. A sensation that brought fear to her, because she didn't know how to stop it.

_Pull out the drawer. Get the box out. Open the said box. Take the bandage out. Rip the paper wrapper. Discard the wrapper. Split the bandage in the middle, apply the white part to the injury. Peel off the white tape things. Wrap the bandage around finger._

To have to tell herself to do all these things… she knew it wasn't normal. But she did, and as she slowly discarded the wrapper and the bits into the rubbish, she vaguely wondered if she'd notice if she got shot at. Or would she just simply keel over, bleeding to death without really realising it at the last moment? Would she feel the pain?

She didn't know. She really didn't know.

* * *

The toughest part about summoning the helicopter turned out to be the dialling part.

Evan watched as Reno talked on the phone; he was sitting across from Leslie and Doyle, facing forward, and so he could see the redhead as he talked. This was a face he had never seen before. His face had lost its edge slightly, or so it seemed, and then he laughed once, a throaty laugh. He wondered whom the man was talking to. The constant roar of the engine made the conversation hard to listen to.

The four were wrapped in blankets, and still they shook. The chill was setting into the muscles and bones, and Kyrie was next to him, her head on his shoulder, her body next to his. The redhead had no blanket on, nothing; just the black suit and the white shirt. Leslie and Doyle were also swaddled in blankets. Doyle's nose was bright red. Now that they were safe, or relatively so, it appeared that the bodies had decided to just give up and start complaining. A dip in the Lifestream had healed his shoulder, but it had done nothing to assuage the damage done from the intense cold, and now everything hurt. Even with the heating on and in full blast, it felt as if he'd never get warm again. The sun had passed its zenith, although it wasn't quite setting yet. Maybe a bit after lunch?

"Um, Reno?" He called, trying to still his chattering teeth. The redhead turned, leaning forward.

"Hey, feelin' better?" He asked, not unkindly.

"Yeah. Um." Evan didn't know what to say next. "Can I have your number?"

Reno's eyes widened for a moment, as if he was surprised, but then he laughed. "This is the first time _a guy_ asked for my number," he said, chuckling. "I don't swing that way, kid… I'm kidding, I'm kidding!" He chuckled for a bit more, then let it trail off, pulling out a phone. "You have a phone?"

He technically didn't, but there was the tiny phone Tseng had lent him, back when they were still in the village. Of course, Reno won't know about that. "Yeah," he said, feeling around in his pocket. The tiny electronic gadget was still there, cold against his hand. He pulled it out.

Reno's eyebrow moved. That was Tseng's phone, or technically one of his phones. He was familiar with it; there was a tiny scratch on the back, if he recalled correctly, and sure enough, he saw the silver mark on the black when Evan flipped it open. Tseng must have given it to him. Ah well.

"Gimme," he ordered. The boy obediently handed the phone over. He punched his own number in, then hit SAVE, and put his name in. He then dialled the number. His own phone vibrated, and he pulled it out, checking the number. The caller ID said "T 2". It was indeed Tseng's other phone.

But he made no comment about it, merely handed it back to him.

It was silent for the rest of the ride. There wasn't anything to talk about. There was nothing to be discussed, at least not yet. When they were in Under Junon - for apparently that was where they were going - then they'd talk. But not until then. Evan, for one, was confused about what had happened. His brain didn't register what he had seen down in the tunnels - the skeletal figures, swathed in black, and all the way at the end, as if she had just sat down…

His own mother.

And then the silver-haired boy, screaming in pain as he dived after the black, mummified thing that his mother had been holding, as if the Lifestream pained him. But the Lifestream was the root of all life, and it had healed Evan. So why…?

There was a soft bump that vibrated from below his feet up to his tailbone, and he looked up. Sometime, while he had been in thought, the helicopter had traversed the distance and had landed in Under Junon. Reno was already getting out, stretching, saying something about leg room. Tseng and Elena were there, waiting. He waited until Rude came around to open the door, then stepped down gingerly. He felt unsteady on his feet. Turning, he helped Kyrie get off; she seemed to be in a better shape than he was, for she didn't falter or waver as she stepped off. Then Doyle, and lastly, Leslie.

Reno exchanged a few words with the dark haired man, then hurried off, pulling his phone out again. His part was done, especially with Tseng whisking the kid away, and he had a feeling in his gut that Arien would be waiting. It was rather nice to have someone wait for him, to actually care if he died in a horrible helicopter crash or not. It would be even nicer if she behaved like a normal, sane person and not tell him that she'd been worried in that scathing tone… he knew better know than to assume that her tone was because she didn't like him. She did. It was just that she was decidedly dishonest about it, as if admitting that she liked him would somehow make him weaker. Being a male and a Turk, he had never really experienced - first-hand or second-hand - the particular phenomenon of "I'm crazy about you so much I can't think straight", except for Elena's mad rampage to go on a misguided vengeance trip. He found that decision profoundly foolish, but Arien knew better than that, didn't she? So what was her problem?

He dialled. "Arie."

She must have been in the kitchen, for he heard a slam of an oven door. "Hmm?" she asked.

"We're heading back soon."

"Rufus wants all of you back before dinner," said the woman. "And he's starting to look cranky."

"We gotta stop by the Edge. Drop the kids off." He frowned. "Man, why do we sound like a pair of mums about to drop kids off for a football practice?"

"The entire society's regressing back to being twelve." Then, her tone took on a gentler note. "Hurry home."

Home. He grinned at the word. Was Healin his home? No, it wasn't; but Arien was there, and for now, wherever she was became his home. Home wasn't a place, it was where the people were, and well, he had no family to speak of. Except them. The ragtag band of misfits and the brat of a president who thought the world belonged to him.

But they fit, like puzzle pieces, to make one picture.

Much to their dismay, the memorial had been almost completed by the time the Turks returned. It appeared that the refugees weren't so totally dependent on the Shinra after all; well, they might have been, but somewhere sometime they had found their own footing and had begun to walk their own paths, trying to find their own places in the city. The Edge had changed yet again while Reno had been absent, and he blinked as he drove into the city, the kids in the back. This city was literally sprouting about his ears; it was an odd feeling, especially because Midgar had been somewhat stagnant. All the buildings had been made, and it was just a slow ebb and flow of some buildings getting torn down, and the others going up, but never had Midgar changed so dynamically in such a short period of time.

The redhead went around, thanking and generally being friendly to the volunteers, feeling a trifle foolish about it. It was odd feeling friendly with anyone except his coworkers, and that was on a good day; on bad days, everyone was on edge, and snapped at each other at the slightest prevarication. This kind of amity really disturbed him, and he felt distinctively uncomfortable.

By the time Evan had realised that he had returned to the Edge with a certain redhead, both Reno and Rude were already gone. And for a long time, they didn't meet again.

* * *

Reno returned to Healin, and found Arien waiting for him, looking dazed. Something was off. The table was set for six, as if it was going to be a dinner party, but she was in the kitchen, sitting, staring at her hand as if she had never seen it before. He walked in - the others had gone to their rooms to change - and frowned when he saw her. "Arie?" he asked. "Whatcha doin'?"

She looked up, blinked, as if she had not noticed he was there. "Reno," she said. "You're back."

"Yeah. Why were you staring at your hand? Did you-" he glanced at the hand again, saw something that had alerted him the first time, identified it. "Did you cut yourself?"

Arien, to his memory, had never cut herself while cooking. Granted, it hadn't been that long since he had first tasted her products, but it was rather clear that it would be a rare day when Arien DeVir cut herself handling a knife in the kitchen. In fact, it was a rare occasion for any of the Turks to cut one's self with a knife; knife fighting was a basic combat training they all received, and they all carried a few knives about them somewhere. Hell, Reno carried two. Blades were as familiar to them as bullets and fists, and by any account Arien should have been able to avoid cutting herself. The fact that she had been careless enough for that injury to occur was a little unnerving for him. The fact that she had been staring at it, was even more disturbing. Usually she was the kind who didn't dwell on injuries unless it hampered her.

"What's goin' on?"

"I cut my finger," said the woman dumbly. Reno pulled out a chair and sat down.

"Yeah, I can see that. Why're you starin' at it as if you've never seen it before?"

She frowned. Then turned and said, "I'm… I'm not sure. It's just that-"

"What?"

"It took a moment or two to feel the pain," she explained. "It's almost like I was watching it happen to someone else."

Reno narrowed his eyes. He had seen this happen to someone else before; someone who had thought he was going to die had been like this, and in fact, he suspected that the "I'm going to die soon" mentality was the reason the guy had died. He had literally bled out in the street while walking away from a fight. It was almost as if he hadn't quite registered what was going on with his body before the reality said goodbye to him. This wasn't a good sign. Was she giving up after all?

Well, if she was, she would've disappeared. She wasn't the kind to just wither away in front of his eyes; she'd make sure that he'd never see that. So it wasn't her consciousness doing that, then. But maybe some part of her was?

"Look at me," he said.

She did.

Generally her blue-grey eyes were alert, intense, focused; her gaze was almost painful at times, staring, with alacrity, her concentration almost frightening. But now, it was as if someone had shut the curtains; her gaze was unfocused, a little heady, as if she had drunk too much wine. She almost looked sleepy, though she didn't look tired. She looked almost as if she wasn't quite here. Before, the only thing that had prevented her face from looking like it was carved of marble was her eyes; they were lively, vivid, everything Reno identified with himself, all focused into the two orbs of blue-grey. But now, empty, vapid, her face looked as empty as if it was carved of stone.

"Arie!"

That jerked her awake, and he silently breathed a sigh of relief. She shook her head once, twice, then her face got back that cold expression she usually wore, as if she was aloof to the world. He drummed his fingers against the wood of the table, and then the others came back, and they ate, as if nothing had happened. But something was wrong, and he could feel it. And he raged, helpless against it, unsure of what to do. What could he do? He had no idea what was wrong with her, just that something was.

She was unusually responsive when he demanded her to give her body up that night. It was almost as if she was siphoning off some life force from him, as if she couldn't quite manage to sustain herself on her own. So he gave her all, demanding more and more of her as she responded to him. Somewhere, in his frenzy, he lost himself in the scent, the faint smell of flowers that she always had, mingled with the blood that was probably coming from her bandaged hand.

They ended with tears falling down her face, and him trying to remember what he had done. But the harsh red marks around her wrists reminded him enough of it. Their breaths were ragged, and she lay, her eyes empty.

But it was a different kind of stillness in her face, not the kind that he had seen before, with the smell of old bones and grave dirt. This emptiness was just the emptiness of a woman spent, fatigued and the pleasures sated.

Well, that was better than what he'd seen a few hours previous, wasn't it?


	36. Minor Happinesses

Bloodwitch Raven - Eh, we'll see. It might be fun to see how Reno reacts if Arien died... but then that'll end the series so maybe it's not a good idea. I do want to see how he reacts, though, as a "what if" situation.

Cecilia Dashwood - Aww, thank you! Your comment added more incentive for me to write the scene and upload it on time... I was in a bit of a split mind between skipping this scene and writing it. Hopefully I won't disappoint.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - Well, yes, I'm up and running again. Nearly ACC... but I do have a minor arc I want to write before diving into ACC. Or maybe I'll interweave it with ACC. Not sure yet.

Back on schedule! Woo!

Chapter 35: Minor Happinesses

* * *

The next morning, nobody really bothered to get up early. Rufus was still asleep, and the rest just did not see the reason to get up when the big boss wasn't around to order them about.

The first thing Reno saw when he opened his eyes was the ceiling. For a moment he was disoriented, wondering where he was, then he remembered that he was back in Healin. Without looking he groped for cigarettes, found the pack, and pulled one out with his mouth. Reach for the lighter, rub the thumb along the top. The first cigarette tasted oddly tasteless, but he smoked it anyway, staring at the ceiling.

"Reno?"

He turned, saw Arien looking at him. Her eyes were sleepy, but not the sleepiness of someone waiting to die, just the last drops of stupor clinging onto her. The sun was high in the sky, but he felt oddly lethargic. _Must be the exposure to the Lifestream, _he thought to himself, knowing full well that wasn't the case. It was more a sated creature's lethargy, an animal with a full belly crawling back into its lair to sleep. Eyes half closed, he felt the bitterness spread in his mouth, fighting with his torpor.

"Your hands," she murmured softly. "I didn't notice your fingers were that slender."

"Eh?" he looked at his right hand; the left was busy covering his mouth and sandwiching the cigarette between the forefinger and the middle finger. "Is it?"

"It's very slender for a man," she noted. "They're bit thicker than mine, though." She showed him her own. The cut was now almost entirely healed, and Arien had removed the bandage. Indeed, her fingers were thinner, more delicate, the nails trimmed. They almost looked spidery, all long fingers.

"Yeah, well, you're a girl."

"I'm glad you noticed."

He smiled behind his hand. Arien was back, at least for now.

The entire group convened at the dinner table thirty minutes later. It was odd to see everyone out of their uniforms; Reno looked sleepy in a white T-shirt and jersey bottoms, his hair looking messier than ever. Arien was next to him, dressed in a long shirt that suspiciously looked like Reno's and a pair of jeans. Elena looked almost girlish in a green skirt and a pink blouse; Rude looked ready to work out in a black shirt and long trousers that allowed ease of movement, and Tseng looked as dour as ever in a button down shirt and slacks. Rufus had lost his white and black ensemble and was dressed a little more comfortably in just black, although to Reno he almost looked like a bartender on Friday night. Reno nearly laughed out loud at the thought of Rufus behind the counter, tending to the drunk patrons on a Friday night.

_Maybe that'll teach him a few things about the crap we have to deal with, _he thought. But then he saw Tseng glaring, and immediately wiped the smirk off his face. "So," he said, as he tapped the ash into the ashtray and yawning, "what now?"

"We know where to go next," said Tseng. "Evan Townsend found the JENOVA specimen. He-"

The rest of the Turks gaped at him.

"I sent you messages last night. I assume that as a responsible member of the squad you re-"

"Forget responsibility," Reno grumbled. "What about JENOVA?"

Tseng sighed at the subordinate's brash interruption, but knew better than to tell him off. "Evan Townsend came across what I assume to be a JENOVA specimen."

"So what did he do with it? Eat it?"

"He kicked it - or dropped it - in the Lifestream. Or that was what he had said. Honestly," grimaced the leader, "what did you do last night to not allow yourself to read my message?"

"I was fu-" Reno felt a sharp kick. "What?" He asked his neighbour. "I was fucking-"

"Ah, no need to elaborate further," said Tseng hastily, not really wanting to learn the intimate details of the redhead's sex life. "It is possible using the old system to map the flow of the Lifestream. From there, we can hypothesise-"

"English, Boss."

"We can take a guess where the sample might be."

"Good," said the president, who had remained silent all this time. "It appears the boy was not so useless, after all."

"Dude, Prez, he is kinda your bro-" Reno finally shut up, feeling Rufus' icy glare. "Right. Zip." He made a zipping motion with his hand across the mouth.

"Good idea," said Rufus. "I want you five to get onto this as soon as possible. Now. We've finally found it. Let us retrieve what is rightfully ours."

"Dun dun dunnn!"

"Reno," Tseng said, exasperated, "shut up." All he got in return was a mock salute. Something was keeping Reno in a good mood and ergo this brashness, and Tseng could guess just what the source of his good mood was. And it wasn't the good dinner from the previous night. Sure enough, Arien had a faint hint of a smile hovering just off the corner of her lips; she wasn't exactly smiling, but she looked closer to it than usual. These two were acting like two teenagers.

But when Reno and Arien returned to their room to pack and return to the Edge, Arien looked worried. "I have a bad feeling about this," she said, sitting down on the bed and looking up at the redhead.

"About what?"

"This." She shrugged. "JENOVA… is it really wise to dig that thing up?"

"Probably not," he agreed. "But what the hell can we do about it? Tell Rufus 'hi, I think your idea's dumb'?"

"Well, not that bluntly, but…"

"My point is, he won't listen. He orders. We listen. And it's gonna be like this: JENOVA makes the world explode or something again, and then he orders us to go take care of it." He shrugged helplessly. "By the way, do you reckon you can analyse what the hell that thing was?"

The inhuman moving… _thing_ that had nearly taken Reno's eye out. Arien furrowed her eyebrows slightly, but nodded. "I managed to get live feed looped into the server before you blew the chopper up. I should be able to run analysis on it, if we're lucky."

"And if we aren't?"

"Nothing." She stood up, then grabbed one of the bags. "Let's go home," she said. "I can use a nap in my own bed."

Much to her surprise, the wireless connection towers seemed to be back up, allowing Arien the access to the network without cables. She saw the status bar on her phone, then dove into her bag as Reno drove them both back to the Edge. She tapped a few keys, balancing the laptop on her knees. "Oh hey!" she said, sounding excited. "The wireless is up! This makes my day!"

"Wireless connection makes you happy?" Reno jibed. "Isn't it big rocks for you girls? Or me?"

"Not me. About the only thing I liked about Midgar was the wireless access anywhere anytime," replied his fellow Turk as she opened the console she hadn't used in months. "Well, Tseng's message is here," she said cheerfully as she tapped on the envelope icon.

"Read it out loud, so Tseng won't yak at me again."

"Er." She put her face closer to the screen. "To all members," she began, "after some discussion with Evan Townsend, it has become clear that the whereabouts of the JENOVA specimen seems to be near the Northern Crater. To elaborate, the aforementioned subject has abandoned the specimen into what is assumed to be a Lifestream flow found in the tunnels reported by one of our members. The next step would be to triangulate the location as soon as possible and retrieve the sample before it is taken away by the wrong hands."

"So, basically, what he said at the meeting." Reno snorted. "Maybe the next time he'll fuckin' yell at me for not readin' his god-damn mind."

Arien chuckled at that, then opened the window. The breeze came rushing in, and she closed her eyes and threw her head back, feeling the thin fingers of air tousle her hair. Reno saw it, and stopped the car.

"What?" she said, opening her eyes and getting up. She stretched her arms, and Reno was again reminded of white snakes unfurling themselves. "Where are we…? Oh, middle of nowhere. What happened?"

He grinned. "Nothin'. It's just that we can use some alone time."

"We had some last night."

"Yeah, but I had to shut you up." His grin got wider. "'Sides, I'm getting drowsy."

"Want me to drive?"

He waved her offer off. "Let's just sit here. I can use some time not moving around."

"What do we tell Tseng?"

He shrugged, his eyes glinting like a mischievous boy's. "We'll tell him we got lost, the car broke down, we got hit by a chocobo, whatever." He gathered her into his arms, pressing his lips into her dark hair. "I just wanna spend some time without anyone else yelling through the wall."

She smiled, and he saw her smile as she moved her head away. He closed his eyes, feeling the fatigue wash over him, the soft kind like a blanket. The sun was shining, warming him through his cotton T shirt. The open window let the soft breeze in.

"We should've brought food," Arien murmured.

"I can think of other stuff to eat."

"Not that… Mmfgh." Her slender fingers raked through his hair as his mouth grinned into hers. He looked at himself and laughed.

"What?"

He pointed at his face. "I think your lipstick rubbed off." He laughed again when she looked slightly disturbed and rubbed her mouth with her fingertips. He reminisced, remembering their first, 'real' kiss; she had been wearing lipstick then too, and he remembered her writing her number on his arm with the lipstick. Fuchsia pink, it was; it was a good colour on her.

"It's not lipstick," came the explanation. "That's my tinted lip balm."

"Oh." No wonder it smelled like raspberry bubblegum.

By the time they got back to the Edge, the sun was already past its zenith and was making its way slowly down to the horizon. As he stepped through the front door, he took a moment to observe her closely, studying her for any signs of lifelessness that he had seen the night before. But Arien seemed normal, no more funk about her clinging like a bad odour. It looked like the few hours in the sun doing nothing seemed to work wonders.

_Small joys,_ he said to himself as he watched her hum. _I guess that's all she wants._

He suddenly recalled the lyrics to the song Arien was humming. It was one of the songs that had been all the rage two years ago, and it had been on air for thirty weeks straight. He found the lyrics foretelling… or ironic.

_Heaven is where we are, with you it's never far, heaven's with you…_

He wasn't sure if he was the right guy to "find heaven" with. But if Arien felt that way, well, he wasn't about to complain.

* * *

If Tseng thought to reach the two Turks that evening, he was in for a big disappointment. For one, Reno had reported that the reason why they had arrived in the Edge later than anticipated was because a chocobo was running at Mach two into the car and he had to do some wild car chase in the badlands. It was a blatant, stupid lie, but Tseng knew that he was never going to get the truth out of the redhead. He'd stick to the story like glue. He then told the leader of the Turks that they'd get on with the tasks tomorrow morning, but they needed the night off. And for some reason, Rufus approved it.

Not really paying attention or caring about Tseng's puzzlement, the two Turks decided that they could use a night of relaxation with their friend. After a phone call and half an hour later, Axil was knocking on their door, with three bags in his left hand. "I brought booze," he said as he stepped in. "I couldn't find any quality stuff, though. They must have problems restocking."

"Don't care. At this point, I'll drink cleaning fluid," Reno replied as he took the bags. "How're you holdin' up?"

Axil moved his head noncommittally. "Sometimes it's really bad… during the daytime, I'm at work, but during the night, well, that's when it hits me." He grinned at Arien who came out. "I really appreciate you two doing this for me. At least this way I don't have to lie in my bed tossing and turning."

Arien was too tired to stand in the kitchen, so Reno had ordered delivery. "It's pizza," she grumbled as she opened a can of beer. "It's always pizza."

"I don't think Reno's aware that he can order other stuff."

"I'm a Costan. It's my duty to eat as much pizza as possible," Reno huffed.

But their conversations never discussed the future, nor Siva's death; instead, they merely talked about the 'good ol' days', when food was plentiful, electricity was cheap, Shinra was still standing and Midgar was corrupt in its splendour. The three were truly the children of Midgar, revelling in its rotten darkness that festered below the glamorous flash of the topside. It was the rotten underbelly that had fed them and clothed them in the shadows to keep them safe, and the three realised that they were all feeling a trifle naked without all the dark alleys and dilapidated buildings to hide in. It had been a city that offered a million vices and a billion ways to forget the current woes. The Edge was growing, but it just didn't have all the nooks and crannies they could dive into and feel safe for the moment. They talked about their past mishaps and missions, the time when Arien, Zen, Shivvalan and Axil had gone into one of the buildings in Sector 2 to root out a terrorist base. She looked a little embarrassed as Axil recounted the story.

"And so I hissed, 'not-' but she walked in anyway, and she nearly turned into paste-"

"For what it's worth, I swear I heard Shiv say 'done'."

"You know Shiv. He probably said 'bum'." Reno laughed. "Did I tell you about the time we got caught and we had to pretend to fuck each other to get out?"

Arien groaned. Reno ignored her and continued.

"So Arie and I were on this mission - Sector Three, I think - and we decided to go in from separate entrances, so we'd meet each other at a rendezvous spot before the big room. But I was giving her directions, and I said left, which meant her left, but she went my left, and walked into a staff member. 'Course, we weren't supposed to be there, so the entire building went on alert, and I got caught too."

"Again! That's your fault!"

"Yeah yeah. We're gettin' to the good part." Reno opened another can of beer. "So we get locked into this room together, it has one bed and a table and a chair. It's bugged like there's a termite problem. But for some reason they only had audio mics, not cameras, so I figured that if I can get rid of a few, we can scramble the rest and mask the signals. But you know, you need to cover the noise so they won't notice I'm fiddling with the microphone, so I told Arie to make noises like I was fucking her."

"In my defence," said the woman, "we couldn't talk and we could only gesture."

Axil laughed. "Go on."

"So I'm on top of her on the bed, and I'm supporting myself with one arm and the other hand's trying to rip the damn thing out, and Arie just lies there, mute. So I nudged her to thrash about on the bed so it'll squeak, and she finally starts making noises like an animal dying. I had to do my part too, and you know how hard it is to grunt while trying to yank a damn microphone the size of an ant from the wood?

"Anyway, so we managed to get rid of a few bugs, enough to you know, stop them from hearing what we were actually doing, then I pick the lock and we're out, and the first thing we hear from the guards is 'they're locked up and they're fucking'. After that, well…" he pointed at one of the last few remaining slices. The other two nodded, bidding him to go on and eat it. "Arie got a gun, and we made out."

"You mean, 'we made it out'," Arien said dryly. "We didn't, you know, make out."

Axil grinned again. "I know, that happened a bit later. I was there, remember?"

"You were…?" Arien looked at Reno, who had an almost identical grin to Axil, so much so that she wondered if they weren't actually related. "Oh. Oh!"

The two men laughed as she covered her face. "Still shy, eh?" Axil said, his voice full of mirth.

"Yeah. You'd think she's over it by now, considering the stuff-" he saw her glare, then laughed. "I'll shut up now."

"Good idea."

When Axil got up to leave, the two stopped him, offering to put him up for the evening. The Wutaian gladly accepted the offer; he wasn't that keen on returning to the empty home with all of Siva's remnants in every room. They stayed up late into the night, recalling friends present and past, because they were all uneasy with what the future held for them.


	37. The Black and the White

Bloodwitch Raven: Well, I still have to prep for the first scene of the movie, so that's what I'll do. Reno and Arien are still in for some bit of action (and oh angst! Well, for Arien. Not Reno. He's too busy to mope) and so are the rest of the crew.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - well, I was a day behind... I really didn't know how to write this chapter until the very last minute. But I actually like this chapter, so I think it paid off.

Chapter 36: The Black and the White

* * *

The silvery consciousness did not die.

It had very nearly died; the green light hurt it, hurt it on a level that was not conceivable to those who occupied the mortal world. But the benevolence and the pulsing life of the Lifestream hurt the silvery entity, and it screamed a voiceless scream, cursing with its very being every single living thing that had gone to fuel the green warmth. It felt itself disintegrate, each life clinging onto every particle of itself, ripping it apart, cancelling every morsel.

Down, down, down it went, the green flow carrying that which it called _Mother_, and the silvery consciousness chasing after it, desperately trying to save it. The _Mother_ did not like the green flow. It despised it. It was the anathema of it, and it would not forgive, it would not forget. The_ Mother_ hated this world, sought to destroy it, only to be foiled by the one who had once borne a piece of her, and bore it still. She had thought him malleable, but the living things were ever a puzzle, and it refused the call, instead fighting her scion, and destroying him.

The _Black_ watched, guiding the silver and the one they called _Mother_, navigating the labyrinthine flow and trying to direct it to where he wanted it to. It had lost its memories long ago, of the faint recollections of the very few friends he had, the memories of the wind and the grass, the taste of a Banoran apple, the deafening claps of thunder and the feeling of the rain on the face. Those things had been claimed by the Lifestream long ago, and he had willingly surrendered it, finding no meaning in keeping them. And as he travelled through the planet, he found that the darker thoughts of men did not really disappear, but instead lingered in the green flow, like a taint that ran through the veins. Thoughts of envy, destruction, despair, wrath, greed, those things pulsed through the Lifestream along with what could be called the better side of man, and the _Black_ found refuge in them.

He had wanted to tell the man who had destroyed him that he was yet not powerless, that he existed, that all the darkness mankind suffered was because of him. But for that, he needed a separate entity to act as his agent. And so he had created the _Silver_, a primitive, larval form of his own conscience, modelled after the image of a boy he had seen within the Lifestream, because he could not remember what he had looked like. The Lifestream had devoured that memory long ago.

And so he was ready.

But the _White_ was strong, far stronger than what he had expected, fighting him with a resilience had had nor foreseen. So he was rather preoccupied with the _White._

_Although I do have the upper hand still,_ thought the _Black_. _She offers no offence, and I am ever putting her on the distance. Now, I just need the mother-_

The _Silver_ was a still a larvae form of the _Black_, and the _Black_ was well aware of it. He could feel the many larvae that had once been his brothers, including the one they called Cloud Strife, who had once defeated him out of pure dumb luck. It was difficult to fight against the planet itself; life pulsed strongly in this world, despite all the corruption the one called Shinra had wrought. And unlike death, life proliferated, spread, even from a single grain.

Unlike the _Silver_, the _Black_ was fully immersed within the flow of life that coursed throughout the planet, and had found itself a refugee within its flow. And so he could easily offer sanctuary to the _Silver. _

It was easy to goad the _Silver_, to direct it to somewhere safe, so that it could recuperate in peace. And recuperate it would need to do in haste; the consciousness had shredded, the thin threads tattered, its identity melting away. He looked at it with distaste. Weakness was not a favourable trait, and it would need to be stronger to save the _Mother_, to carry out the _Mother_'s wishes.

The _Silver_ curled up, if it had limbs to speak of, and waited in a cocoon of black liquid. The _Mother_ waited with the _Black_, quietly, but not with patience, for the _Silver_ to recuperate, to recover, to knit itself again, so that it could re-emerge, to do the work needed. The _Silver_ was terribly afraid, afraid of being alone, afraid of being left behind. It was afraid of the dark corners, it was afraid of the green light, the vibrant, vivid life that filled the world. It was afraid of the beautiful redheaded woman who had recently passed this way, finally disappearing into the Lifestream, and it was afraid of the redheaded man, so vibrant, wild, mercurial. It was afraid of those who walked the land, and wept black tears, while harbouring black thoughts of destruction, of killing, of ending those lives like small candles being puffed out.

The _White_ also watched, waiting, but patiently. It noticed the silent cries of the _Silver_, but it could not reach out to help, and frustrated, the _White_ could do nothing but wait for the right moment, for her friends who still lived to make the right choices and preserve what the planet had worked on to make it flourish for so many years. It listened to the flow and ebb of the life, heard its pleas, its fears, its joys, and knew that the battle was not yet over.

Not by a long shot.

* * *

The next morning, Axil had gone back to his place, and Reno was lounging around in the apartment, while Arien was arguing with Tseng on the phone.

"No, sir, it is not humanly- no, I said, I can't!" she nearly yelled. Reno watched, amused at her obvious discomfort at having to say no to her superior. Reno never had any problems saying no to his superior, so didn't quite understand why Arien was so averse to saying the word 'no' to Tseng. "Of course, sir, it would have been possible if the servers had been up at full capacity. As of right now, there are only three towers standing out of eight." She swallowed a sigh, then responded with an affirmative, then ended the conversation, only to follow it by a frustrated shout of "arrrgh!"

"Problem?" Reno asked, grinning, bobbing his head to the rap music that he was listening to as he flipped through the channels. Arien threw her head back onto the back of the sofa with a defeated air.

"Tseng wants me to do something that could've been done… if it was back during Shinra's full-powered technological heyday! Which is so not right now." She suddenly jerked forward. "We hardly have running mobile services. This is going to take three years, not three days."

"And we don't have three years, I'm guessing."

"Bingo." She saw Reno's expression. "What?"

"Just a thought, but how many motion sensors do we have?" He bobbed his head again. Red hair shook.

"We had a whole bunch of them in the military warehouse. Why?"

"I have a plan."

"I hate it when you say that," she grumbled.

"Ya know you love me," he grinned. "Where's the phone?"

Arien found it next to her, and threw it to Reno, who caught it, and dialled. He pointed at his ear then waved his hand downward as he listened to the calling tone. Arien got up and lowered the volume as he listened. "Yo, boss," he said cheerfully, "So DeVir said she can't do it, right? Listen, I've an idea."

Tseng must have said that he didn't like it when Reno said that particular phrase, since Arien had to bite down a grin as Reno whined that this was the second time someone had said that to him today. "Yeah," said Reno, suddenly serious, "listen, how many motion sensors do we have?" He nodded to himself. "Great. Listen, if we can get them up in the perimeters of the place where the kid kicked the thing off into the stream, then DeVir can track the movement of the thing. That way we won't need to hijack five towers that don't exist and try to do a miracle."

"Huh. Why didn't I think of that?" Arien mused out loud. Reno pressed a slender forefinger against his lips, hissing "shh". Then he went back to the phone.

"Sure. Sure thing… yeah. We'll leave right away. Can we take a flier? Yeah, I promise I won't crash it. Yeah. Gotcha. Thanks. I'll have DeVir take the an extra belt, just in case." He hang up, then drummed his fingers against his thigh. "Get up," he said. "We have a job to do."

"Care to brief me or are you just going to do it on the fly?"

"While doing shit on the fly's really my style, I'm pretty damn sure you'd probably lose your head over it and panic so I'll brief ya." He grabbed the keys off the coffee table and tossed it into the air. "C'mon. We gotta get to Healin in an hour and a half."

The drive to Healin was the roughest in Arien's memory. After loading up the SUV with all the motion sensors they could find in the warehouse - which amounted to five boxes, full of them, plus a box that Arien suspected was a machine gun - Reno took off at a world cup pace as if he was a racer. Reno's driving was reckless at best, but apparently he had forgotten all senses and he drove through the badlands as if there was a monster chasing after them. And as he drove, he briefed her, which, in her opinion, wasn't really a briefing at all. It was extremely lacking in the sort of information she needed, and she had never been the kind comfortable with missions that wasn't planned down to the last letter. His plan was simple; land in the icy plains, drop down to the tunnels, set up motion sensors, then after they were online, track the motions of any solid object within the Lifestream. If something solid came along the way, then that was where JENOVA was.

"How would we know it hasn't floated out into the ocean?" Arien asked dubiously as Reno stepped on the gas.

"Easy. The flow wasn't that quick. It's still there for a few days, at least. Oh, you need to set up the gun."

"The gun? The one that you loaded into the car?" She looked puzzled. "Why? I thought the chopper already had fire power."

"'Cause, I nearly lost my eyeball to the freakish silver-haired twit the last time I was there. Bullets probably won't do jackshit to the thing in the long-run, but if it can run around right after getting hit in the face with a fifty calibre, then we're fucked anyway. And the last time I used the mounted gun, it did jackshit. We need bigger calibre."

"I need a payraise," Arien grumbled.

They made it to Healin in record time, thanks to Reno pretty much ignoring every driving safety precaution ever invented, and then Arien was literally sprinting toward the door. Elena was at the door, with a messenger bag. "Extra clips, emergency rations," she explained as Arien took it. "Let us know when the motion sensors are online. Good luck."

"Thanks," she mumbled, then began running back. Reno was mounting the machine gun to where it was supposed to go. Arien took a glance at it, then grinned. "You got the M2?"

"It's a classic."

"You couldn't get something newer, like the Gau?"

"Hey, ma deuce's like an old sock. It fits right, it's trusty, and it's a damn good gun." He drilled the screw in, then moved to the other side. "Alright. Got the extra stuff?"

Arien patted the messenger bag slung across her shoulder.

"Good. Let's go." He slid into the pilot seat, and then switched everything on before Arien managed to close the door. "Prepare for take-off." Then he skipped pretty much the take-off communication sequence - there really wasn't any point anyway, as there weren't any aircrafts in the air these days - and took off.

They flew across the water, heading north. The steady hum of the engine was a drone in Arien's ears, and Reno had a habit of talking a little loudly while on the chopper - apparently he didn't ever remember that the microphones attached to their headsets picked their voices up well enough without having to yell - but all in all, it was a peaceful ride, so different from the reckless speed-racing that Reno had done on the way to Healin. There weren't any missiles getting launched, or a big monster trying to crash into them. She checked the contents of the bag, found an emergency medical kit, and smiled. Elena was becoming rather prepared for these things, for which she was thankful. You never really knew what happened in these 'away' missions, and it didn't hurt being prepared. She also found ski goggles, some emergency rations, and other knick-knacks that a Turk might occasionally need. She slid the goggles on, then yanked it down so it'll dangle around her neck. She checked the frequency they'll be on, made a contact with Healin, reported that they were on their way, and then the white plains was in the view, reflecting the sunlight and directly glaring into her face. She must have missed the Icicle Lodge area completely while she was reporting.

As one they both slipped their goggles on. "Now, where the hell was I the last time I was here?" Reno mumbled. "Can ya see anything?"

"What exactly am I looking for?"

"Well, a big scorch mark, actually." He shrugged when Arien turned her head so quickly to look at him her ponytail swished. "What? Tseng shot us down. We literally had to jump out mid-air or go down with the chopper, okay? Made a real big bonfire."

"Well, I'm not seeing it," Arien murmured, then her vision found what they were looking for. "Oh wait, yes I do. It's to the east." There was a big scorch mark and debris scattered around like a marker, marking where the chopper had crashed, shot down by the missile Tseng had launched only a day or two before. The flames had all died, but it was like a black acne in the white, pristine field. She thought it was almost symbolic of what the Turks were; a blemish in the society.

What the hell.

Reno swerved the helicopter. "Where… oh, I see it," then he squinted behind the goggles. "Hey, are those footprints? Or is that a random animal track mark? I really fuckin' hope it ain't some monster."

"Hang on." Arien pressed her forehead against the side window, trying to look down. The marks were faint, but they looked like shoes, wide on one end and narrow on the other, repetitive and alternating as if someone had walked away. "Errr, those are… they look like footprints, all-right. It's faint. It must have snowed."

"Great. Which way is it goin'?"

"Straight ahead, two o'clock."

"All-right, we'll land in a few minutes."

Reno made a smooth landing; then they were hauling out the motion sensors from the back of the helicopter, which Reno had packed into the duffel bags while in Healin. They shouldered the bags, and then they were off, trekking in the snowy plains to get down to the tunnels. Snow crunched under their feet as they walked, breaths coming out in white plumes. But their mako-enhanced bodies were extremely resilient to harsh conditions, so it'd be some time before the coldness kicked in and their bodies began shutting down. And even then, it'd take longer than usual for them to actually get hypothermia.

And then Reno found a hole. He wasn't sure if it was the right one, but he was fairly certain they all connected under the ground anyway. "Let's go in."

Tossing the duffel bags into the snow, the two Turks slid down into the hole. They'd get back up by a folding ladder this time, which they'd leave by the hole; Reno took a pistol from Arien, a loaded M1911, then shot. The paint ball exploded on the wall, marking where they began.

"All-right," Reno said, "now what?"

"You don't know what to do next?!"

"Not really. I do stuff on the fly, remember?"

Arien sighed. "First step would be to map this place," she said. "Hopefully it won't take too long."

"Or it might take a week."

"That's the way to keep your optimism up," said the Turk sarcastically. "Let's go. We're wasting daylight."

"True that," said Reno, then grinned. "Meet back in two hours."


	38. The Hunters in the Snow

Bloodwitch Raven - Not sure if this chapter is what you expected... this part's the interim between two arcs, so I'm struggling a bit getting the chapters out. Some Arien and Reno interaction here.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - The Black/White/Silver arc is fairly easy to write. The hard thing is writing Arien and Reno, since in ACC Arien won't show up when Reno's on camera.

A day late... but...

Chapter 37: The Hunters in the Snow

* * *

Two hours passed, and Arien walked back to the meeting place, her feet complaining. Usually a two hour walk would have been nothing, but the icy tunnels had the floor that could have easily been converted into an ice skating rink, and the placement of the feet, the distribution of the weight, the constant tension had tired her out. It didn't help that she hadn't brought any footwear to walk in the snow. She would have packed it if she had a little more time, but all she could do was to throw her uniform on and dash out. Literally.

The walls pulsed with green life, a steady thrum like a heartbeat. She marked the wall with her knife as she went by, so that she would not get lost; the walls, the floor, the ceiling were all smooth, as if some very large creature had burrowed underground and had made this network of tunnels, but she knew that wasn't the case. It looked like Reno's suspicions were right about how these tunnels were made. It probably would have made a nice tourist attraction, if it wasn't so fraught with innate perils that made venturing down here more of a biohazard rather than anything else.

Well, at least the mapping was done.

When she got back, Reno was already there, leaning onto the wall. "Took you long enough," he said. His eyes looked green with all the light reflected around him, giving him an unhealthy pallor. "You okay?"

"My feet are killing me."

"You're wearing leather loafers," Reno pointed out.

"I know, I know. They make this entire place into a skating rink." She pulled out a laptop and her phone. "Do you have your map?"

"Yeah." Reno pulled out a peace of paper from his pocket. It was a crude drawing, just lines, but it was enough for her; she snapped the photograph, then connected her phone with a cable to the laptop, then began editing the image. A few moments later she uploaded her own half, and began the task of connecting both in the image editor so that it would create one, coherent map. Which was harder than she had anticipated; the lines didn't necessarily match, so she had to make do with some fudging over, and it was probably grossly out of scale in some places. But she persisted, trying to string some coherence into the scribbles.

Reno decided to take a nap.

Arien said nothing as Reno simply lied down and closed his eyes. She was used to Reno resting while she worked; after all, she needed a lot more prep work than the redhead, and while all the prep work allowed Arien to get one mission done in a day, Reno managed to get three cleared off the to-do list and still have time to nap and go party. The total amount of work they did was about on par with each other, although the way they distributed their energy and time was far different, with Reno doing it in quick, explosive bursts, and Arien far more steady but with less gusto.

That, and he didn't have anything else to do, really.

An hour later, he was awoken with a tiny 'ting' from his phone, which was enough to jerk him into wakefulness. His eyes opened, and he jerked to attention immediately, reaching for his phone. Arien had already closed the laptop and was sitting next to him, riffling through the bag. "I just sent you the map," she explained. "We should probably eat before starting the next part."

"What did 'Laney pack?"

Arien pulled out a box. Reno looked at it with distaste. "Granola bars? Did she really think I can live on this bird feed?"

"You have to. There's no other food." She threw a bar into his hands. "Eat up."

Reno chewed in silence for a while, then spoke. "I think this thing's gluing my mouth shut. And it tastes like shit."

Arien didn't answer. Her mouth was too full of toffee and popped rice and nuts.

"I think your mouth _is_ glued shut."

Arien continued to chew. Or at least, she seemed to be trying. It didn't seem to be going too well. Her eyes became crossed as she tried to unstick her jaw, and he laughed as she yanked on her chin. She finally managed to free her mouth from the toffee, but then looked at the half-chewed granola bar in distaste.

"I think I'm done for now," she said.

He laughed again, a purr-like chuckle, then chewed on his own food, taking care not to get his mouth stuck. Arien sucked down some water from the bottle. It took merely minutes before Reno had finished his sparse meal, and then a few minutes more to pack up and get going. Their task wasn't done yet, and they had some distance to cover; Reno dragged the boxes behind him, and Arien began placing them along the path, following the map, spacing them so that they would be somewhat evenly distributed. She had her doubts, but she had to make do, and taking actual measurements wasn't something either of them felt up to. The bone-chilling cold was slowly settling in, and the faster they finished this task, the better.

They moved in silence, not really up for small talk. _Slap_. Arien bent down and slapped the small disc onto the side of the flow, where the Lifestream flowed like a river, its waves lapping against the icy ridges slowly, sluggishly, as if it was more viscous than water. She got up, then walked some few feet. _Slap._ As she went around, slapping the motion sensors on, she checked her phone to see whether they were online, exchanging those that were dead with the live ones. They weren't battery operated, but some motion sensors were just plain dead.

"How're they?" Reno asked as he handed her another sensor.

"Most of them are active. But not this one." She handed back the circular disc, with one opening blinking, its lens eye black. The tiny LED above the lens refused to come to life, despite Arien pressing on the button to switch it on. He dropped it into the box, then handed her another one. _Slap._

They went down the left path, Arien setting up the sensors, then took a break for five minutes. The work was tedious; it was check and slap, check and slap, and midway Arien's phone battery died, and she had to take Reno's to continue. The conversations were sparse, their work sluggish, but they went on in the icy tunnels.

It was a long walk, a circular walk, a silent walk. It was a walk of trepidation, for they were both aware that what they were looking for perhaps should not have been dug up, but rather buried and forgotten for all eternity. But an order was an order.

_Obedience_. It was their creed; they were the limbs of Rufus Shinra. But they were not entirely without their own will, so they were apprehensive, silently, without telling each other, but understanding each others' fears. They refused to call it nervousness, but they were aware of it, just by a glance, a slight expression.

_The calamity from the skies,_ the Ancients had once called it. Perhaps what they were doing was that which had destroyed their city. Perhaps what they were doing now was what the hubris that made the planet put the humans back into its place.

_Slap, _went the hand as she slapped another disc. Reno was not sure if this was a slap against the nature, telling it that the humans will not be defeated, or a slap from the planet for the humans daring to do that which was forbidden.

* * *

The _Black_ watched.

It was easy to sense the two mortals wandering around in the icy tunnels where the Lifestream once flowed to heal the wounds humanity had dealt to its mother. For one, he sensed his mark on one of them, a slender woman dressed in a black suit. He vaguely recalled seeing her in his past life, but the memory was hazy, like someone else's dream. Her eyes were blue-grey, clear, alert, but there was his own mark, clear, the sign of despair, of death. She was long-limbed, her hair dark and long, her gaze with the focus that piqued his interest. Slightly. Only ever so slightly. He also sensed a familiarity with her, nothing that he recognised, but as if he shared a bond with her. Not a strong one that he had felt with Cloud Strife. It was barely a strand, so to speak, so faint that it felt as if it was about to break. But it was there.

The redhead he sensed better In a way and worse in other; better, because his life was so vivid, so vibrant, that he was almost like a beacon of light. His thoughts were rapid, jarring, flickering, jumping from one place to another. But the sense of the male was also worse than the female's, because the male lacked the bond that he had with the female. That single tether, a shared _something_. The male was also slightly familiar from his past, the flaming red hair piquing something from his scant reservoir of his memories, his cat-like aquamarine eyes. His movements were graceful, but with only the grace of a predator waiting for its prey.

The _Black_ could see every wound the two had ever received, the bullet wound that had made a clean exit through the male's shoulder, leaving a puckered scar. A lucky hit; one finger's breadth lower and the male would have lost the use of his arm. There were more bullet scars on both their bodies, the female's faint, almost invisible to mortal eyes, the male's more profound. There was a single slash across the female's lower arm, possibly from a blade, lacerations on the male's abdomen. These were fighters, familiar to combat, death, the simple snuffing of the tiny blinks of light that he could sense.

The _White_ also knew the redhead, but not the female. The redhead had been one of her guardians once, guardians, or hunters, who had agendas of their own. Agendas, plans, none of them really acceptable in the society that the _White_ had been in. But she also knew that the redhead, despite what he had done, despite the people that he had snuffed out, was not a bad person. Cruel circumstances had twisted him into this finely honed blade, sharp as a stiletto and just as deadly, but it was not the blade's fault for being a blade.

The _Black_ and the _White_ watched, each wary of one another and the two mortals. The two were out of the tunnels now, and were discussing something. There was a swarm of people near where they were, new lives that had come. There were already many people who had lived in the place for years, but now, more people were coming, one by one, then a trickle. They both sensed the distress of the people a few days ago, as if something had happened to them and that something was causing them distress. But they weren't sure what had happened. In the Lifestream, away from mortality, it was hard to gauge what sort of thing was happening, things trivial but important to those who lived.

"I don't like this," the female was saying.

"Well, neither do I, but orders are orders."

"I still don't like it." The female insisted. "Look, I know we've done some fairly bad things, but this? This is asking for trouble. We didn't exactly dig this thing up the first time, so at least we weren't to blame for that. But this time? We've already screwed around pretty heavily with our luck. What the hell happened here, anyway?"

"Icicle Lodge had a pretty bad fire," said the redhead.

"Was this when you guys were here a few days ago?"

"Yeah. The guys who don't look like they're dressed for the weather… they must have come to help out." There was a pause, and the redhead stood up, held his hand up, signalling her to be quiet.

Arien, who was unaware that there were at least two entities watching her move, stood up as well. "What?" she asked, barely above audible.

"Someone's here," Reno mouthed, "and they're talkin'."

Arien stood up without a sound. They had been sitting down near one of the burned-down houses, far away enough from where the majority of the people had thronged, to avoid encounters who still remembered the Turks as heartless killers. They had been come to the Icicle Lodge area after Arien realised that she'd need a better reception to start the process to send the data to Healin. So they had gone to Icicle Lodge area only to see that the place had gone up in flames some days before. The tower was still intact, since it had been some distance away from the actual village, but there were a lot of people going to and fro and that made hiding somewhat difficult.

Arien frowned, then leaned forward. Together, they hid behind one of the walls that had survived the blaze, eavesdropping. 'Eavesdropping is rude' had been defenestrated some time ago when Arien had become a spy.

But then, she wished she hadn't remembered to throw out that particular rule.

"Eliane," said a masculine voice. Arien's frown deepened. Eliane had been her mother's name, and while it was not completely unique, it was rare enough that she hadn't met anyone named Eliane since her mother's death. Eliane DeVir had died long ago, and it was only when her daughter had been determined to die that the spirit, or what remained of it, had cobbled together what could be called a sense of self within the Lifestream to prevent her from giving up.

"Wasn't Eliane your mum's name?" Reno hissed in her ear. Surprised that he had remembered, Arien looked up, and nodded. The piece of the fall she was holding onto cracked with a sharp noise, and the two immediately pressed themselves against the wall, but evidently the people they were spying on hadn't noticed. And why should they? The place was so far away from the village that no one was around. Or shouldn't have been around.

"Oh, Myers," said the feminine voice, so like Arien's that Reno almost looked at the woman pressing her head against the crumbling wall. "I missed you."

Reno and Arien looked at each other, mirroring each other's expressions.

"Myers?" Reno mouthed.

Arien now looked alarmed. She slowly crawled on all fours, peeking around the corner. Then she jerked back, yanking Reno back with her. They crawled on all fours, Reno absolutely clueless, until she seemed certain that they could stand up and not be observed. Then, she began to run.

"Wait, wait!" Reno chased after her. He was much faster than her - he was, after all, the fastest in the squad - and he overtook her without a problem. He caught the tail of her jacket, yanked, and caught her in his arms when she stumbled and nearly fell backwards. He mentally made a note to not pull so hard. Rude was like a rock and he was too used to dealing with him, but Arien was lightweight. He needed to adjust.

"You okay?"

"Oh god." She was trembling. "Oh my god."

"Calm down, DeVir. What the hell happened?"

She gasped, her eyes open wide, her face showing petrified fear. She shook her head, inhaling, then exhaling, trying to calm herself, but she trembled still, and her teeth chattered. He heard the grit of her teeth as she tried to regain control, felt her arm muscles tense against the palm of his hands as she clenched her fists. But it still took a while for her to calm down.

"DeVir, report."

"That was Myers, Reno," Arien whispered. Her whisper was nearly drowned out in a gust of wind that stirred up the dust and ash, and she coughed. "That was my father."

"Your dad's here?"

She bobbed her head. "Why is he here? What the hell is he doing here? And why? What's going on?!"

"Hold your horses. Where was he?"

"Just on the other side. Oh god." She panicked. "And who the hell was that?! That wasn't my mother! What the hell was that?! Why did my father think that was my mother?!"

"Wait, wait. What?!" Reno tried to rewind the conversation, but she continued to panic.

"What was that thing? Who was that thing? Is that even human?!"

"DeVir!" He shouted. "Take a deep breath. What do you mean, 'who the hell was that'?"

Arien took a deep breath, then buried her face in his chest for a few moments, which ended up with her getting uncomfortable with the standing position and straightening, making her left joint pop. She had marginally calmed down, however. "I saw my father speaking to some… thing."

"Something?"

"It wasn't a human," was her response. "No human looks like that."

"Look like what?"

"Silver," was her fearful response. "The… thing had silver hair…"


	39. Moral Lies, Immoral Truths

Bloodwitch Raven - Reno's first face-off with Kadaj! Reno is, if anything, a survivor; he probably has survived more than anyone else in the FF7 universe. So he'll be fine.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - I'm really impressed with you (and the rest) for being this excited over my writing. It really keeps me going when my mind wanders.

Will Arien make it? Will Myers make it? Will Reno make it? Here it is!

Chapter 38: Moral Lies, Immoral truths

* * *

"We gotta go back," said Reno, ignoring Arien's frantic excuses not to. "There's somethin' goin' on. It's our job to check it out."

"No." Arien was adamant in her refusal. "No."

"Fine. I'll go by myself."

He knew what'd compel Arien to move; it wasn't a weapon he used often, but when he needed to, he brought it out, making sure to get Arien with one shot. And, as always, she made a move. She stood up from where she had been sitting, her face filled with trepidation and unwillingness. The sun was setting, giving an eerie cast to the landscape. Shadows danced in wild revel as the cold, harsh wind blew.

"You loaded?" Reno whispered.

Arien nodded. "Why? You think…?"

"Better safe than sorry." Reno really did not want to get into close combat with that… thing. That thing had a blade, and that meant that thing's reach was longer than his own with the baton. He brass-checked his Jericho, feeling around for his spare magazine. This was not the time to debate whether he was a crapshoot or not. He could only hope that bullets did some damage. He doubted it.

They walked without noise, slowly, taking care so that the gravel would not crunch under their feet. Ash still fell here and there, a powdery rain of grey, smelling of fire and death. The sky was red, dying their faces the colour of fresh blood. It wasn't a very good portent, and the ash sprinkled onto their hair and their clothes, covering them with fine, grey powder. They walked on.

When they got to the wall where they had seen Myers last, Reno held up a hand. They flattened themselves against the wall, straining their ears to hear whether the two were still there, and if they were, what they were talking about.

"Eliane…"

Myers was still there. Arien grimaced. Reno's face was still, his eyes showing the only vivacity left, his eyes glowing an eerie greenish-blue, like a cat's. His mako radiation level was above hers, and at times like these, it showed. His face was almost cruel, still, not flinching, not reacting, as if he was watching something insignificant, except for the intensity in his gaze.

Asura's eyes, the Wutaians called them, the eyes of a god that existed to kill and destroy, bound by passion and wrathful. Reno usually had eyes that were mocking, cynical, and rather sarcastic, but when he became serious, they turned into what could only be called Asura's eyes. Long ago, the Wutaians had feared eyes like his, killed those who had them, finding them malevolent. And Arien always felt she understood why when she saw Reno serious. They were terrifying.

"Come with me," said the other voice. "You miss our daughter, Myers. Don't you?"

And then Reno walked out.

It wasn't a rash movement of someone who had lost his senses, no; his gait was calculated and measured, contrived to look casual, as if he had just stumbled upon them. "Hi," he said, cheerfully, "where's the- Myers?"

The… thing Myers had been talking to, or so he assumed, was no woman at all. It was that creature he had faced a few days ago, the one who had tried to skewer his eyeball and then probably barbecue it. Silver hair with the texture that reminded him of plastic swished in the wind, the eyes a more intense hue than Reno's, pupils slitted like a cat's; the thing was not tall, certainly not taller than he was, and looked more like a child than a fully grown human. The leather creaked with newness, the wear and tear not quite having the time to settle into the material. He - or was it a he? - was slightly snub-nosed, looking about fifteen, with hair that reminded him of a deep bowl upended on a surface. Reno saw the eyes and felt an eerie familiarity with the colour.

Arien followed, not sure what to do. Reno stood, surprise plastered onto his face like a mask.

"Hey, fancy meetin' you here. What're-" Reno continued, but was interrupted by Myers, whose eyes widened in shock when he saw the two Turks standing.

"What are you doing here, Arien? Why're you here?" The father demanded of his daughter. Thankfully, Arien could lie on the fly, a trait that sometimes worried Reno but at times like this, he was truly appreciative of her training as a spy.

"We heard that the village was decimated, Father," Arien said, her tone smooth as silk. "We were ordered to investigate."

"I see," said Myers. "And what-"

The question was halted by the thing pointing a finger at Arien. It was so sudden that nobody reacted at first. But then the thing shrieked, "she killed Reniel, Myers! She murdered her own sister!"

Everyone froze. Reno snapped out of it first; he shifted his weight, ever so slightly, but enough so that he could launch into action if the situation demanded it. Then Arien, who merely cocked her head. Myers was the last. He took a step forward, his expression now stony. "Is it true, Arien?" He asked, the voice just as soft as his daughter's, as if he did not want to believe it. Arien merely raised an eyebrow.

But the thing persisted. "Would I lie to you, Myers?" it whispered. "Have I ever lied to you? Arien killed Reniel. She shot her in the head. And then she walked away, because her mission was far more important for her than her own sister. Her own flesh and blood, Myers! Who knows what she'll do to us, if the situation demands it."

Another step forward. "Is it true?" the man demanded of his daughter in a voice that was barely controlled shock, grief, and anger.

_Oh god, please don__'t crack, _Reno silently prayed. Reno knew that Arien had a fairly healthy amount of professionalism in her, but this was her _father_. Immediate families were completely different problems, especially when the said family member wasn't in the kind of 'I'll kill you' type of relationship. Arien and Myers had been distant, owing to Arien moving out at a young age, but they hadn't hated each other; in fact, Arien had fondness for her father, and from what he had seen, Myers was a caring, if strict, parent to the woman. This may not end well.

But unlike her father, who had been away from the 'front lines', so to speak, Arien was an active agent. She was used to controlling herself, beyond what people considered the norm. And immediately her instincts as an agent kicked in; her face was neutral. "What do you think, Father?" she asked, her tone casual. "Do you think I have it in me?"

"Myers!" the thing pleaded.

"You know me the best, Father," Arien continued, as if she didn't hear the thing pleading to her paternal parent. "Well?"

The four - or three and the thing - stared down at each other. Reno heard Arien's watch ticking, a steady _tick tick tick_ that counted down the time until… until what?

He got to find out thirteen seconds later. For the thing had sidled up to the man with a face that reminded Reno eerily of Arien pouting, and asked Myers whether he trusted her or not.

_Ouch._

"She won't answer you," said the thing, "because she killed our daughter, Myers. She killed her. That's why she won't say no."

"Aw, damn it," Reno murmured. "Arien!"

At the same time, Myers roared in pain and grief, pulled out a small gun, and fired.

It missed. Or, technically, it missed because Reno and Arien both moved as one, throwing themselves down onto the ground. Their enhanced bodies and their visual acuity gave them that split second most would not have. They rolled away, getting to their feet, guns coming out. It wasn't a conscious thought; it was a self-defence instinct beaten into them during the long hours of training back when they had first joined the Turks. It didn't matter if the person shooting was your lover or your father, as soon as they registered the person as 'trying to kill me', they went into defence. Or offence, depending on who was doing it. Arien's defence was mainly to disarm, but Reno went in for the kill.

As Myers emptied the clips into where Arien was - which she dodged with impressive speed - Reno went in, sliding low onto the ground. The frozen earth, topped by a nice layer of ice, made it easy for him to slide into where Myers was. He couldn't take care of the silvery thing right now; he'd take care of that later. Right now, he needed to stop this man from trying to kill his coworker. He'll worry about the repercussions of killing his girlfriend's father when he had the time.

His hand pulled out the baton, and as he slid to where Myers was standing, he switched it on with a thumb, and swung.

There was a nasty _crunch_ and Myers howled again. Reno sincerely hoped the pain will bring the man to his senses, but no such hope. Myers went down, but still tried to empty his magazine into Reno this time. Reno scrambled away, taking refuge as Arien shot at her own parent. Her misses told him she was just trying to distract Myers and not actually hurt him, but it did give the redhead some time to get away.

In the meanwhile, the thing had taken a step forward.

"You can't kill him," the thing observed. It transformed into Arien's double in front of his eyes, sans the intense gaze and the expressionless face. Reniel. Reno looked at it with disdain, remembering Arien's twin sister, her oddly foolish plan to usurp Arien's job and use it as a springboard to get into Rufus' bed. She had been a pawn to bring Rufus' reign crashing down, only to be foiled by her twin sister.

Reno grimaced. There wasn't really a way to knock some sense into Myer's head. The thing's hold over him was too strong; he had fought those under the control of JENOVA before, and had managed to bring a few of those under its influence in. They very rarely snapped out of it, usually going on a mad rampage and then him or one of the Turks getting called in to 'clean up the mess'. The only way to free the victims of the mind-controlling influence of JENOVA was to get to them early, and then a battery of therapy and all the other stuff that Reno didn't quite know about that lasted for months. But Myers looked already too far gone, and he wasn't sure if he could bring Myers in for treatment. Besides, who could give him the necessary treatment and therapy?

"DeVir," he whispered, "we gotta take him down."

"I thought we did."

He raised an eyebrow. Arien paled.

"Is that really necessary?"

Reno kept a check on Myers out from the corner of his eyes. Just as he had thought, the thing had bent down and was doing… something to Myer's shin. He realised he might have broken the bone. He recalled Evan Townsend being 'healed', albeit temporarily, by that silver thing that now looked like Reniel DeVir. "Just trust me on this, DeVir," he murmured under his breath. "There's no way to snap him out of it."

He almost expected Arien to argue, but she didn't. She paused, but then nodded once. He heard her grit her teeth. "All-right," she replied. "How do we do this?"

Reno did a couple of rapid calculations. If Arien could keep the thing at a distance, she had a fighting chance, while he had significantly less probability of success, owing to his skills with firearms. Better let her keep the thing at bay while he took care of Myers first. Besides, hadn't Arien already killed enough family? He wanted to save her from having to kill her own father too, if possible. "Go after that… thing," Reno instructed. "I'll take care of Myers."

Her eyes looked wet for a moment, but that was it. "Roger that," she said, her voice hoarse.

Then everything exploded into action.

Arien whipped her pistols out and pulled the triggers at the thing crouched down by her father. The silver thing morphed, turning into the young boy for a moment, a sneer on his face. He came in, the blade held at a thrust, but Arien narrowly avoided getting skewered as she twisted her body. She slapped the Glock into its stomach and squeezed.

The boy dissipated into a mist, appearing behind her.

But Arien hadn't been a Turk for nothing. She ducked down, using her Sig to catch the descending blade. Another gunshot sounded, sharp and slicing through the chilly air. For a moment they were locked in this precarious pose, until she headbutted him then beat a hasty retreat. Another gunshot, and then the fight was on again, the boy coming in for the offence and Arien dodging and twirling to avoid being cut into ribbons. She was a smart girl; she had already estimated her chance of winning and had switched tactics to survival. And, well, he had taught her plenty of survival tactics.

While the silver thing was preoccupied with the woman who was dodging his attacks like a prancing cat, Reno closed into Myers, who sat on the cold ground. He looked a mess; no longer was he the composed, retired agent, but now he was just a man, beaten, tired, and desolate with the losses of his wife and his daughter. When he had last seen Arien's father, he had been dressed immaculately, not a hair out of place, reminding him of Tseng in a bad way; now the hair was in such a disarray it almost looked as if he had walked through a storm, and his clothes were stained here and there.

"My life sucks," Reno observed to himself.

Myers whimpered, cradling his head.

Reno didn't want to do this. But he couldn't let this one slide into oblivion either. Myers was a threat to his safety and hers, and those two came first, before any parental affection hoohahs.

"I'm sorry," Reno said to no one in particular. Then he raised his voice, aiming his Jericho at Myers' head. "Hey, old man!" he called out.

Myers looked up, his eyes filled with servility that disgusted him. Where was that proud intelligence agent, the legendary ace of the sector? Clearly gone. Perhaps it stemmed from the guilt of not being there when Eliane DeVir had died, when Arien DeVir had moved out. Perhaps he blamed himself for letting his family fall apart. Perhaps this was why he was so eager to pin the blame onto someone else when he was vulnerable, regardless of whom he was pinning the blame onto.

But Reno didn't give a flying fuck about Myers; he only cared about the man because he was Arien's father. And well, from the looks of it, he needed to finish this fast.

No more waffling.

"I should let you know something before I kill you," Reno said, still aiming. He was close enough that he was sure he wouldn't miss; and for some reason, Myers wasn't fighting back, until Reno realised that the gun must be empty. And it looked like the thing hadn't quite finished patching Myers up before Arien fired.

The gunshots from behind him made an oddly percussive background music as Reno stared down at the man. His eyes were cold. What he was about to say was a blatant lie, but he had one ounce of charity for the man he was about to kill, and he wasn't about to let the relationship between father and daughter sour right before it ended. Myers deserved this kindness, if not for the way the man treated him, but for bringing Arien into the world, for instilling discipline and control into the woman he depended on to watch out for his back. Because it was Myers who had raised his elder daughter to be the dependable agent that she was. He deserved it.

"I killed your daughter," Reno said. His voice had lost its sarcasm. "It wasn't Arien. It was me."

Myers looked up. It was just the right angle. Reno didn't hesitate. He did not pause. He pulled the trigger.

The execution was swift. The gun spat out a round which hurtled forth, spinning, slicing through the air. It almost appeared as if it was in slow-motion as it crashed into Myers' forehead, instantly killing him.

Myers toppled over backward.

The thing must have felt its hold on the man disappear, for it became distracted for a second. Arien didn't miss the chance; two pistols spat out rounds successively, a rapid percussion that echoed into the sunset. The thing screamed once, and then turned into a black mist. It sank into the earth.

Arien lowered her pistols and walked to where Reno was standing. There was a shallow cut on her arm and a slice across her cheek. She leaned onto him, staring down at her father, now dead, eyes open wide as if he was surprised. She knelt down.

"Like father, like daughter," she murmured, as she closed his eyes with a soft touch of her hand. Then she stood up. "Did we bring fire materia with us?"

"Yeah. Here." He snapped it out of the wristband and shoved it into her open hand. The red ball was warm in her palm, slightly pulsing as if it was alive. She snapped it into her own bracelet as Reno backed, then with a trigger word and a mental focus she caused a blaze to erupt from the dead body.

She had misjudged the intensity, for Reno felt the intense heat lick his face as the fire consumed the body with an eagerness of a starving animal. Arien stood next to him, watching the pyre, her body still. He slid his arm around her shoulder, pulling her toward him. The sun was setting in earnest, the red giving way to the indigo as the sun said its farewell. The two watched the flames dance, guided by the cold wind, as the stars began to appear, dotting the dark blue sky like silver tears.

Arien broke the silence. "I'm all alone," she murmured.

Reno tightened his hold on her, and she leaned her head onto him. He couldn't outright say it, but it was his way of telling her that he was here with her, and that she was not alone. And she understood, as always. After all, she'd done the same for him.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Reno looked at her, surprised. "For what?" he asked.

"For letting my father go in peace," she replied, her voice soft, almost lost in the roar of the fire. Reno saw the tears fall down her face, painting a wet line down her cheeks. He could only hold her as she wept in silence for her destroyed family and for her father's peaceful, if bloody, end. He gritted his teeth. Sooner or later, this thing had to be put down, and put down hard.

But right now, he had no plan, and he had no idea how to do it. The best course of action was to get back to Healin as soon as possible, where people with better heads could plan out the next course of action. He felt somewhat powerless, but ignored that nagging feeling. He really didn't need that distraction, not when his life and Arien's were on the line.

Now what? He thought.


	40. In for Surprises

Bloodwitch Raven - This Reno is significantly darker than what we see in AC. I'm not sure how I'll make the transition, or if I will, because I never really felt Reno's change from what we see in the game to what we see in the film appropriate.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - In my previous version Myers was very much alive and kicking, but I feel that this is more sordid... and it'll allow Arien to reflect over her familial ties and whether she's alone or not. Sorry Myers, you had to go.

The last part of the previous version has been tweaked slightly to add a little more dimension.

Chapter 39: In for the Surprises

* * *

The return to Healin was uneventful for Reno, but Arien had a geostigma attack and was passed out for most of the trip. It was Reno's first time seeing her in the throes of pain like this, and he found himself struggling to concentrate on operating the aircraft and not tend to the woman next to him. But he also knew that crashing won't really put her in a good mood.

Thankfully, she had come to before they actually landed. They'd get permission from Rufus and fly to Junon as soon as time permitted them, where Myers' ashes would be buried next to Arien's mother's grave overlooking the cliff. They would not bother marking the place with his name, but Reno figured Myers would want to go back to where his wife slept, at least in death. Come to think of it, Arien's first boyfriend - if handholding and eating dinners together could be called a romantic relationship - was buried there too. He did not feel that tetchy about Darren now, perhaps because he was getting used to it. She had a past, and so did he, and the pasts made them into who they were now. There really wasn't much point in denying it.

But it still made him think of his own death that would come to him someday.

That put a damper on things.

"Arie," he said as the spinning blades slowed to a halt. She was slumped in her seat, and for a moment he worried that she might have passed out again, but her eyelids fluttered. She was asleep. He shook her shoulder. "Wake up."

"Mmm…" She mewled, then stretched. "Are we here?"

"Yeah." He opened the door on his side and stepped out. Cool nighttime breeze caressed his cheek and rustled his hair. He stood, taking in the nightscape, filled with nature. He felt ill at ease with so much trees and grass around him. He had grown up by the sea, filled with palm trees and the slowly lapping waves, but somewhere sometime he had forgotten what it felt to stand in the breeze and take a breath that wasn't filled with pollution.

The door slammed, and another door slid open. He turned. Arien had slid the back doors open, and was taking things out from the back. There was the small box, containing the ashes of Arien's father, then the messenger bag that Elena had given them before they had left that morning. She climbed out, bag on her shoulder, and slammed the doors shut. The hair flew in the deepening night as she stood next to him.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice like down.

"I'm… not sure," Arien murmured. The wind blew, a whistle in the air that rushed between them. "I'm cold."

He slid his arm around her shoulder. "Let's go in," he said to her. "C'mon."

She nodded, dumbly, and was led up the steps that ended with the front door into the lodge. The lodge itself was silent, the interior dark. It was obvious everyone had already retired to their rooms, perhaps to their dreamlands. The two tiptoed through the corridors, taking care not to walk into furniture, and had made it to their room where Arien had to be told to get changed. She just stood, dumbly, until Reno told her that she needed to change before going to bed. He personally didn't see much point in changing, but over the years he had learned that Arien was a firm believer in crisp shirts. And nothing creased the issued shirts like sleeping in it. Considering that the Turks were very likely to sleep anywhere and everywhere while on assignments, making the shirts this prone to creasing seemed a little foolish. Reno blamed it on their gross mistreatment.

"So how'd we know?" Reno asked as he sat down and scratched his head.

"I've set up an alert system so it'll send out an alarm to everyone's phones once it detects something solid floating in the current. It'll also tell us which sensor caught the signal. So that's that." She sat on the bed next to him, a laptop on her lap, looking a little worn out. She looked as if she had aged five years in ten minutes.

"You okay?" he asked.

"About…? Oh. Father." She thought for a moment. "I don't know, Reno. He and I weren't that close… but who I am now, as an agent, as a person, well." She shrugged. "For better or for worse, he was my father. He was… well, for me, he was always rational, always controlled. To see him like that?"

Reno nodded.

"I'm not sure what to believe in now. I didn't really know what my father was doing when I was little, but ever since I had to start making my own decisions about… well, being a spy, I guess, I always asked myself 'what would Father do?' whenever I felt confused or lost. And now I'm starting to see that my father wasn't the perfect agent that I always thought he was. What am I supposed to do now?" She looked down. "Whom am I supposed to rely on to make rational decisions all the time? I don't have anyone like that now."

Reno thought for a moment. Truth be told, he never had a role model like that; he always made his own decisions, whether they be good or bad, and never had he expected anyone else to lead him or to guide him. He never really considered whether his decisions were _rational_ either. Whatever felt right, whatever felt good, was usually the way he decided on things. It amazed him that Arien did an infinite amount of calculations before coming to a decision, and that she did this on a daily basis, almost instantaneously sometimes. How did her head not explode? Sure, deciding on whether to buy a donut or a danish didn't involve too much weighing of the pros and cons and simulations, but some of the missions she planned were multifold with several backup plans. The fact that she could juggle all this information in her head at the same time was nothing short of a miracle for him. He usually needed casual reminders at least two or three times before he actually remembered the detail.

He never had a teacher like that, never had anyone who taught him the 'ropes' so to speak. At least, not a good one who would teach how to survive. No, that was what he had taught himself, by making mistakes and barely making it out each time. He had scars to show for it. Maybe Tseng had been his 'teacher' once, but Tseng sucked in the 'mentor' role. He was good at being a leader, but he just expected people to follow sometimes, without really 'teaching' per se. Veld… had been too busy overseeing over twenty Turks when he had first joined. No. The only mentorship he had received was when he had been in the gang, and that was mostly things like 'don't fuck the merchandise'. Not exactly something that he found particularly useful nowadays.

"Arie, I'm not sure, but…" he tried to find the phrase he was looking for, which took him a moment. "Maybe it's time to stop asking 'what would Myers do?'."

She looked at him.

"I mean, sure, he was an almost legendary spy, but let's face it, your dad was just as human as the rest of us. We aren't robots, Arie. We do make mistakes. And when we do, it should be because of our own choices, not because of some imaginary role model in your head. Maybe…" he paused again, trying to decide whether this was the right thing to say. What the hell. "Maybe it's time to let him go, Arie. To be who you are by yourself, instead of just following your dad around."

A year before, Arien might have blown up a the last comment. But now, she looked pensive.

"Do you think I'll do… okay?" she asked, her words halting.

" might not be the best agent, but you've survived. And we've been through enough shit that's enough for a lot of Turks' lifetime." The zirconiade crisis, Genesis's debacle, the Meteor crisis… his life had been rough the past couple of years.

"Reno…" she whispered. "Thanks."

He nodded. He tried not to think about Arien's illness. She'll make it; she had made it through everything, hadn't she? She would make it through this one too. They'd come out alive.

He wasn't sure. He had no way to be sure. But he had to believe it. Because there was nothing else he could do.

* * *

The next morning, it was all business. Reno had preemptively asked Tseng for permission to fly out to Junon. Tseng did not look happy about it, but neither did he outright deny them permission. That was good enough for Reno. Right after that was breakfast of toast and cereal, and then it was squad meeting.

"DeVir, report," Tseng said, his tone crisp. He looked all set and ready to go and be an agent. On the other hand, Reno was still in a T shirt and looked as if he was ready to crawl back into bed. The redhead seated next to the leader was an oddly comical scene of contrast. If anyone had noticed Arien's mood, they didn't mention it.

"The perimeter's been set up, and online since last night," she reported. "I've set up a message system so if it senses any solid object roughly the size of the specimen, then it'll alert our phones. It'll then map the trajectory course through the flow, so we'll have a good idea of where to look for it. Provided that it goes well, we should be okay, battery-wise, for at least two weeks."

"And after that?"

"We'll need to recharge. I left half the number unused so we can just switch them out."

"Very well. Reno?"

"Yeah?" the redhead, whose head had been slumped onto the table surface, jerked awake. "What's up?"

"Report."

"Oh, right. So the flow of whatever that is, is pretty slow. I'm not that worried about it flowing out into the ocean." He glanced at Arien, who made an almost imperceptible nod. "We had an issue, though."

Tseng's attention focused onto him straight away. "What happened?" he asked, leaning forward. Reno winced. Tseng's gaze was unnerving him, and it was way too early in the morning to have a staring match. He decided to fold and not prepare himself for any berating. It wasn't as if he had done anything wrong, but whenever Tseng stared at him there was a small voice him him that whimpered like a little bitch. He mentally slapped that voice and told it to shut up.

"We had an incident," he started. Tseng waved his hand in a circular motion, telling him to get on with it.

"The thing that tried to skewer my eyeball? That thing was there. Boss… that thing acts like-"

"JENOVA," Tseng interrupted. Reno's eyes widened.

"You knew?!"

"I encountered it while I was with Kyrie Kanan." Elena stiffened at the name. "It fell into the flow of what I assume is Lifestream. For it to recover quickly… we must move faster than I had anticipated. We may need to be on location before we actually receive the signal."

"So, no nappin'."

Tseng ignored Reno's whining. "What happened?"

"Well, the thing controlled someone we knew to attack us. DeVir managed to hold it back."

"Who was it?"

"Who was who?"

"The person you're acquainted with."

This time, Arien stiffened. Reno glanced at her again, as if to seek permission to divulge that particular piece of information. Arien nodded, but she looked unsure.

Oh well.

"It was Myers DeVir," Reno mumbled.

Everyone looked at Reno, then at Arien after recognising the surname. "Relation?" Rude asked the woman.

Arien nodded. "My father."

"And what happened to Myers DeVir?" Tseng pressed on. Arien grimaced, gritted her teeth, then exhaled.

"He's dead, sir."

"My condolences," the man said, not unkindly; but it was without warmth. Well, Tseng had never been the emotional one to begin with, and she didn't expect heartfelt sorrow about it. Still, it hurt to know that her father was gone. Reno had killed him, something that no one else needed to know. It was his kill to absolve her from having to murder her own father.

_You__'ve killed one family member, Arie. One's enough._

It was Reno's kindness. But it still hurt. He had done what he could to give the man a peaceful passing, and she was thankful of it, but there were moments when she wondered if nothing else could've been done. Without much time to grieve and reflect, her thoughts were scattering to the winds before she could register them as grief. She'll never see her father again, but instead of the overwhelming sorrow she had felt with Siva, all she felt was emptiness.

"But that's normal," Reno had pointed out. "You had weeks to prep for Siva. With your dad, you had maybe ten minutes tops."

"Shouldn't I feel sad for my father more than I felt for Siva, then?"

"Not really," Reno had replied. "You had weeks to let the fact sink in. But with your dad?"

She was all alone now. That terrified her rather than made her feel empty and numb, as she had expected. She had no one; she was alone in the world. She was not sure if Reno counted as a family member. Partner, sure. Lover? Of course. But family?

Was Reno her family?

She knew that Reno considered the Turks his family. But her family dynamic had been very different from his childhood. She had known two loving parents and a home that she had once belonged in; Reno had never known that feeling, had never felt that he belonged with his parents and his brother. His father, from what she knew, had always favoured Luca, making Reno the secondary character in his own story until he had struck out on his own.

She felt a hand slide into hers. Reno's, from the way she could feel the calluses on the palm. It was warm, the fingers locking with hers. It was a reminder that he was here, even when she didn't realise it. That when she felt overwhelmed, there were others to shoulder the burden and the pain.

She snapped her attention back to the meeting. "We need to retrieve the specimen as soon as possible," Tseng was saying. "This will be our number one priority. You two," he said, pointing at Reno and Arien, "will be coming with us when we go in for the retrieval."

"Us?" Reno echoed.

"Elena will be going as well. From what I have seen and what you have told me, this is going to need some manpower. DeVir has fought with that thing before. We need at least one person to make out of this and get the specimen back here." He looked around. His gaze brooked no refusal, no objections. And the Turks made none. "We'll fly out at oh-eight-hundred, stop at Junon on the way to pick up a few things, then we'll head to the north. Rude, you're on guard duty. Meeting adjourned."

"So… we have thirty minutes," Reno muttered under his breath as the Turks filed out. Elena looked almost hyper-excited, which was a mystery for the redhead. Why did Elena look so chirpy? Was she just that gung-ho to go and be a Turk? Or was she just happy to be with Tseng? Whatever the reason, Elena fangirling Tseng was starting to be a bit disturbing to the redhead. Sure, Tseng was a good Turk, but that was it: he was just a Turk. He wasn't some mythical hero out of LOVELESS.

"I need more rounds," Arien said to no one in particular.

"And better shoes."

She looked at the ceiling. "That too."

After returning to their room, they both changed into their uniforms, and began to prepare for the retrieval. Arien checked the sensors - nothing caught in the net yet, but the sensors were all online - and then Tseng had come in with a rough map, asking her where was the most likely spot for the thing to show up, as Reno loaded rounds into Arien's magazines. He heard Elena asking Rude where the camping gear was, and sincerely hoped that they won't have to camp out on the icy plains.

Twenty minutes later, Reno was loading the gear into the back of the helicopter, Elena was doing last-minute equipment check, Tseng was doing a last-minute report to Rufus, and Arien was trying to re-calibrate the sensors to up their sensitivity. Sliding into the pilot seat, Reno checked to see if Elena and Tseng were ready to go, then started the motor, hearing the blades begin its spin.

The _Black_ waited, silently, with a new surprise for them.


	41. Tseng's Decision Reno's Choice

Bloodwitch Raven - Good question. I'm not sure, since technically I'm trying not to break canon... I'm not sure how Cloud and Tifa would react to her. She will meet Vincent in this fic. Tifa and Arien are, in a way, polar opposites, so it is interesting to consider how Tifa will think of her.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - I had to re-watch ACC three times to remember what was going on. I didn't really remember who was doing what in the initial sequence... it's a little tricky to write this from the Turks' POV, since they aren't really central to the plot.

A new fic in incubation! Reno and the Turks in GRADUATE SCHOOL.

Chapter 40: Tseng's Decision, Reno's Choice

* * *

The shrill beep tore through the dusky interior of the chopper, and the four bolted up. There were no rubbing of the eyes or yawns; an instant trill of an electronic sound and the four were up, ready to go. Arien scrambled for her phone, and with a flick of her thumb she unlocked the screen.

The three others looked at her expectantly. Arien made a few motions with her fingertips, then nodded.

"It's here."

"Hallelujah!" Reno murmured as they began to move. "Now we can get off this big chunk of ice."

Even Tseng did not argue with that. Three days camping out in the plains with whistling winds and howling gales did nothing to better their mood, and they were all ready to go home. In the end they had ended up calling it quits and sleeping in the helicopter, where it was marginally warmer. After the second night camping had become out of question, but the helicopter posed one serious problem: it was impossible to stretch out. Reno was complaining of a permanently cramped up leg.

"Well, where is it?" the Wutaian man asked. Arien peered into the screen again.

"It's… huh." She blinked. "Apparently the tunnels run under the Northern Crater, sir. The signals read from that general area."

"Let's fly there," Tseng decided. "Elena and I'll go In, Arien will be our back-up. Reno, get ready to fly at a moment's notice. We might be pursued."

Reno raised an eyebrow. "Pursued by what?"

But Tseng did not answer. Reno did not press the issue either. Neither needed to say it out loud; the silver-haired figure was fresh in their minds, and when Reno glanced at Arien, apparently she had the thing in her mind too. Which wasn't surprising. The unknown really put Arien ill at ease, and none of them knew just _what_ that silver-haired thing was. It could play mind-tricks, pit a father against a daughter, show illusions, take people over. Arien was fine with the pure brawn type of menace - she was a firm believer in cerebral play overcoming muscle - but she wasn't comfortable with someone playing the games she played on her. Especially when the player seemed to have unnatural advantages over her.

Tseng, if he noticed Arien's discomfort, did not mention it. Instead, he kept his mind blank as Reno took to the air with the ease of a frequent pilot. He had always been one of the best pilots amongst them, despite his amateurish habit to yell into the headset; they could all fly, but Reno seemed to have a natural talent at anything that required hands-eye coordination. Elena was all-right with it, Rude was good at it, and Arien usually flew well unless something unforeseen happened; but Reno was a constant reminder for the leader of the Turks that talent did exist. Reno might be an ass, and he certainly wasn't exactly the wisest of the group, but when it came to following movements with the eye and reacting to it, Reno had the fastest reaction time. He was indispensable to the team.

The chopper moved forward smoothly, its spinning blades making a steady hum. The Northern Crater loomed into the view, dark, menacing, a hole in the ground that looked ready to swallow up the little helicopter that hovered near it. Elena leaned forward, pressing her forehead against the glass. Tseng observed her with a cool detachment, noticing her obvious excitement. In but a moment, the chopper began to descend; snow was falling, and the rotating blades swirled up the powdery snow, creating a smoky curtain around the helicopter. The wind howled between the jagged rocks, and the snow stopped falling and instead tornadoed around them, a white and silent maelstrom.

"This is going to limit our vision," Arien noted. Tseng shook his head.

"There shouldn't be that much snow down in the base of the crater. Reno!" He said sharply into the microphone. "How long until landing?"

"Like, five seconds?" came the snide reply, and then there was a slight bump. The rotor slowed a little as Tseng yanked the door open.

"Showtime."

He stepped out of the chopper, where they had been sleeping in, and stood on the snowy ground. The cold air stabbed at Tseng's nostrils as he disembarked, and he could almost hear Elena shake like a wet cat as she stepped out. Arien was murmuring something to Reno, who was murmuring something back. From what he knew about the two and the tone, it didn't sound like lovers' farewells. And then she was out too, standing next to Elena, looking like a shadow to Elena's brightness. They couldn't look more different even if they had tried. Despite the uniforms.

After doing a perfunctory equipment check, they began their hunt. Tseng had found a sloping entry point into the tunnels, and they simply walked down into the bottom of the crater. The sunlight was weak, the jagged stone walls menacing, and Elena looked a little unsure at times, but the team went forward, Arien with her pad in hand, Elena with the bag that held the sample carrier Rude had somehow procured, and Tseng marking the way with a knife. Since Reno and Arien had used X and a simple slash, he drew a line through each X as they went around the corners and chose forks, marking their passage.

The path winded and turned, and Tseng went forward, looking at the crude map Arien and Reno had made when they had last been here. There were forks, crossroads, and spiralling turns that made navigation problematic, and he silently felt grateful for his subordinates' forethought to make a map instead of just going in blind. Arien definitely deserved some commendation for her meticulousness and planning. He had no doubt that Reno hadn't thought up of it. He didn't have the mind to plan this, nor did he need to. But Reno sometimes forgot that not everyone could just do things in the fly and come out unscathed.

They went further in, the tunnels winding around. They stopped for a quick breather when Elena pointed. "Is that it?"

Tseng and Arien both looked. There, washed up on the rocky, rough surface of what appeared to be a small pond, was what looked like a dessicated mummy. Arien bent down, taking care not to touch it. Tseng recalled Evan describing it as 'something that looked shrivelled'; despite the moisture and Lifestream besides, the head still looked dried up like a husk.

"Mr Tseng!" she squealed with the enthusiasm that would have made one think that she had hit a diamond mine, not a shrivelled corpse of an extraterrestrial. "Look at this!"

"Yes, it seems we've hit a jackpot," Tseng replied. He made a mental note to commend DeVir to Rufus if the appropriate time came. Which might be never, but surely it was better than nothing. As an informational operative Arien was second to none. Some of the information she could glean from a scrap of paper was astounding, and he really had to credit Myers DeVir and Jane Whistler for educating her so well. He couldn't think of a single instance when an assignment went to all hell with DeVir planning and Reno and Rude executing. They made a good team, the brain, the finesse, and the brawn. For a moment, Tseng regretted not bringing the big burly man; nobody quite knew what will happen soon, and Rude was a good, reliable agent. He glanced at Arien, who was standing a little away from them, looking nervous.

"This looks kind of gross," Elena commented.

Tseng did not comment on Elena's candid observation, but instead pulled out a pair of surgical gloves from his pocket. "The container, please."

Elena obediently handed over the black box and a pair of tongs. Tseng picked the dessicated head with a delicate touch, then dropped it into the specimen container. Elena then produced a bottle of what appeared to be green goo; it was one of the old bottles of an _in vitro_ solution created by BioGenTech that Arien had procured after mildly threatening her contact to oust the still-operating company to the media. Tseng ripped open the plastic seal, then dumped the solution into the box. He then closed the box and taped it shut. He then radioed Reno in, asking him to pick them up. The redhead answered right away; he was supposed to be hovering some distance above them, so they could snatch and run.

"Reno, we're ready," Tseng said.

"Yeah," came the reply.

It was supposed to end there. But it didn't.

The black shadows just seeped out of the walls, silent, without even stirring up a wind. Nobody noticed until it was nearly too late; Arien, who was closest to the Lifesteam, saw it first, and barely managed to duck before the black mist solidified into three forms. The three Turks threw themselves onto the ground. Arien's headset flew off and fell into the pond with a splash.

Tseng mouthed. "Oi! Hey!"

They were getting attacked. And it was getting dicey. Tseng took a split second to decide. Out of the three, Arien had the best shot at getting to the helicopter without making errors; he shoved the box toward the woman, who grabbed it without missing a beat. She took off after a mouthed apology. He heard gunshots. Arien must have fired. The bullet ricocheted off with a sharp ping, and Tseng ducked again, rolling and pulling out his own firearm.

"Who on earth-" he mouthed as he fired. He could count at least three, but by all accounts there should've been only one. He heard another gunshot. Elena. Elena gasped, and Tseng shouted her name.

Arien ran, shoving the box into her bag. She nearly dropped it in her haste, but she managed to stuff it into her messenger bag, and then she was off, cursing her speed. She heard Tseng shouting and Elena moaning in pain, but instead she looked ahead, keeping tally of the marks. Four down, three more to go. The icy floor provided little traction and she nearly slipped midway to mark three, but she regained her balance and moved on. This was _not_ the time to pause.

Reno had been trying to radio in but to no success, so he was shocked when he saw Arien sprinting toward him, her face filled with fear and tense. She looked as if she was about to snap as she yanked the door open and yelled, "go, go go go! Take off! Take off!"

"What?!" Reno asked, flabbergasted. Arien clambered in then slammed the door so quickly the helicopter shook. "What the-"

"Just go, Reno!" Arien shrieked. "Before we end up dead! Go! Go go!"

"Tseng and Ele-"

"Are you not listening to me?!" She shrieked again. "This isn't the time to debate the merit of camaraderie! Just get in the air! Now! Go go go!"

Reno didn't argue; he just obeyed as Arien looked around warily, terror in her eyes. She was clearly not okay, and once they were high enough to get out of the area, he asked, "are you okay?"

"No," she snapped, then sighed. "I'm sorry. We got what we came for, so I guess that should be a blessing."

"What the fuck happened? I heard screams and gunshots and then you came hurtling like a maniac."

Arien looked into the sky. It was blue. "We were… I think we were ambushed," she said.

"You _think_? How the hell do you not know?"

"Well, for one thing, ambush means laying a trap and knowing where and when," she countered. "And I'm not sure if that was the case. They just appeared out of nowhere?"

"Who's they?" Reno asked as he pushed on the control stick.

"Remember the silver-haired boy who was talking to my father, when we, you know-"

"Yeah, I know. Go on."

"Well, we encountered him again," she said, shuddering. "But this time, he wasn't alone."

"Whaddya mean, not alone?"

"He had two others," she explained. "Maybe we could've handled one, but three… they aren't human. I'm not sure what they are."

"And… Elena and Boss…"

"I had to leave them behind." Her tone was defencive. He glanced at her, and saw that her expression was harsh. "What can I say? Our first priority is to get the specimen back to Healin, Reno! What could I do?"

"Hey, I ain't blamin' ya. Actually, I haven't said anything."

Arien sighed, and sat back. She was tired, and it had been some time since she had been this terrified. Every time she remembered Elena's screams, she wanted to clamp her ears shut and pretend that nothing had happened, but unfortunately that didn't seem that realistic of an idea. If they died… she tried not to think about it. Tseng had come back from worse, and Elena wouldn't die in front of the man she idolised, would she?

_You damn well near gave up, and you had a man you love,_ said a nasty voice in head. She mentally shushed it, feeling guilty about it. She had nearly given up on Reno, had nearly taken the easy way out, instead of fighting for her life. And the result was the black lesion on the back of her neck that was practically a ticking bomb.

"Do you think we can go back for them?" Arien asked.

"Right now? No."

"I don't mean right now… but when we're in a better situation."

Reno didn't answer right away, and for a moment all she could hear was Reno's breaths and the _blub blub blub_ of the rotor. "Sure," he said, at last. "When we're in a better shape. Speaking of, you're bleeding."

"What? Where?" She looked around; Reno tapped her on the thigh, and she looked down then gasped. There was a long slice along her outer thigh. How did she not notice? Now that she noticed, she felt the throbbing, sharp pain. The cut was not too deep, but it was bleeding, dying the dark fabric an even darker shade.

"I ruined another pair of trousers," she complained as she climbed out of her seat and went into the back. She got the first aid kit, and began cleaning the wound. Reno heard a sharp hiss. "Ow."

"At least you didn't shit your pants."

"I nearly did," came the dry reply. "How long until Healin?"

"About half an hour."

He heard a sharp tearing noise, and then a few minutes later Arien slid into the co-pilot seat again. "This all better be worth it," Arien snapped to no one in particular. "We should have went in full squad. Do you know why he even wants this thing?"

"Do I ever know why the fuck Rufus does anything? He tells me to jump, I keep jumpin'."

"What if he forgets you're jumping?"

"Oh, he's done that loads of times. I just stop when I figure he forgot." He looked at her, who was massaging her other leg. "Listen. There's something Veld told me when I first joined. I think you need to hear it." He made sure she was listening, then continued. "When I joined, Veld told me that the hardest part of being a member of the squad isn't the killing. That gets easy after a while, ya know. You learn to kind of ditch the guilt, save it for later. It wasn't doing all the crap we do either."

"Then what was it?" She asked, impatient for the answer.

"He said that the hardest part of being a Turk was leaving your buddies behind to complete a mission. 'Cause, not only are you scum for killing people and kidnapping teenagers, but now you feel like you're the scum of the scum for leaving even your buddies behind while they bleed to death for you to get away. And that's what makes us the best, Arie. It ain't because we train hard, or because we rock at spying. Let's be honest, some of the stuff we do, Intelligence does it better." He sighed. "But see, most gangs and militaries don't expect you to put the mission even before saving your buddies. And that's what we do. Well, sometimes they do, but then they don't expect the kind of loyalty we have. It's almost impossible to find, you know, to be absolutely loyal to each other, and to be absolutely dedicated to the mission. So that's that. What you did was right, at least according to our handbook."

She slumped back into her seat. "I know," she whispered. "But it still feels awful."

"It always does. Did you think I had fun leaving you at the bottom of the stairs to go save Rufus?"

"Wait, what?" she sat back up. "What do you mean?"

"When you went to save Rufus, you know, I saw you, unconscious, at the bottom of the back stairwell. Trust me, I was really tempted to save you instead." He shrugged. "But I saved Rufus instead. Figured you won't really appreciate my gesture if I did the knight thing. Here we are."

The helicopter began to descend, the long journey over at last. Reno got off first, then helped Arien off, who was now really feeling the pain and hobbled into the lodge. When Rude saw only two return, he said nothing, but he knew what it meant. He glanced at Reno, who shook his head ever so slightly behind Arien, who was making her way at a snail's pace into Rufus' room. Tseng and Elena were not coming back.

But that didn't mean they weren't bringing the two back.


	42. Connections Many Phone Calls

Bloodwitch Raven - I know Reno'll turn into a comedy routine soon, so I'm going to need to curb Reno's maniacal Joker act. He's going all nice now. I don't really like it. What were the devs thinking?! He's a killer. He's a terror. He's not a guy who'd show up in the film _Daddy Day Care_.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - ACC at last. I'm starting to lose the drive - not good - which might be why the writing might sound stale and unmotivated... it's because I'm feeling slightly stale and unmotivated. I really wish the Turks would quit waffling and start hitting something. That always makes a decent scene.

Chapter 41: Connections. Many Phone Calls.

* * *

The next morning, the three remaining Turks reported to Rufus, who was less than pleased with what had happened.

"So you got the specimen," he said sourly, "but you left Tseng and Elena behind."

Arien bristled, and Reno narrowed his eyes. Rude did not move. But none of them made a rebellious comment. "We had no choice, sir," Arien said finally, her words tumbling out as if she was not pleased to say them. "It was either lose everything and possibly get ourselves killed or get out without Tseng or Elena."

"Regardless," ordered Rufus in a tone that probably would have brought a blizzard to a desert, "I want them back." He looked around. "I don't care how you do it. I want them brought back."

His subordinates said nothing.

"Each of you is a valuable investment for the company and for me," Rufus continued. "To lose even one of you is a huge loss of asset. To lose two would be intolerable."

"Yes, sir," Arien managed.

"I also want a steady update on Evan Townsend," Rufus continued. "He appears to be the only one who has actually made contact with JENOVA and the silver figure in question."

"Twenty-four hour surveillance, sir?" Rude asked.

"That would not be necessary, but I do want regular updates. At least once every few days." And then he turned away, signalling that the meeting was definitely over. Which was for the better. None of them really wanted to stay any longer than necessary; it wasn't fair that Rufus was grilling them after all the crap that had happened, and none of them were too sure if they could bring Tseng and Elena back.

"Well, what do we do now?" Arien asked the redhead as they walked out. Reno looked at her.

"Why're you askin' me?"

"If you haven't noticed," she said with some patience, "you're the leader for now. Since Tseng's not here. You outrank everybody."

"Shit." He looked around, and plopped himself down onto the sofa. "Right. What the hell do we need to do?"

"Find Elena and Tseng, and keep watch on Evan Townsend," Rude recited.

"I can take of keeping tab on Evan," Arien volunteered. "I'll just have to make a few calls."

Reno looked sceptical. "This better be a damn good agency, or whatever."

"It's fairly reliable," was all Arien offered. Reno shrugged, then moved on.

"Finding the boss and 'Laney," he recited. "That's a bit tricky."

"A bit?"

He grunted. "Okay, somewhat tricky. Now that we have that established, how the hell do we do this?"

"Well, for one thing," Arien pointed out, "their phones have tracking devices. Maybe we can start with that."

"Good idea. Rude, get on it."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm gonna start calling up some of our pals," Reno explained. "We're gonna need to call in some help."

Arien nodded, and left the room. Rude followed. Reno sighed, then threw himself onto the sofa, stretching out. Asking Ellen was definitely out; the trust-fund kid wasn't going to come running. Elena's sister? Maybe, but the sibling rivalry might lead to the elder sister expecting for the younger sister to extricate herself. Rod? Maybe, but he was a bit flighty, and he seemed to have his hands full chasing down the last dregs of the counterfeit drug. The Turks had pretty much made sure to put the production line out of business, but some people seemed to have endless stash of the thing. Acid and Galen? But they'd already rescued Tseng once. Besides, Galen was fairly close-quarter-oriented, and Reno had seen how that might end. That automatically ruled out Jason the former cop and Dina the former mercenary.

"Delara and Acid… man, this is gonna suck," he mumbled, and then dialled. He waited for the other end to pick up. "Acid, I need a favour."

Acid sounded grouchy. "What?"

"We need you as a back-up."

"Reno," said the man, "in case you haven't noticed, I quit the damn squad."

"Yeah, I remember," was Reno's snide rejoinder. "We're really in a tight spot, though. We'll pay."

Which usually was a sure way to get Acid moving. "How much?" came the question after a pregnant pause.

"Two hundred grand. Half up front."

"Deal. Let me know when you get the details."

Reno was a little put off by this. "How the hell d'ya know I don't have the plan already?"

"'Cause," came the ghost of a chortle, "you never do, Ren. I might've forgotten a crap load of things, but I haven't forgotten that." And then the phone went dead.

Reno groaned, then scrolled through the address book in his name flashed in front of him, and he paused, not dialling, but thinking. What the hell was he supposed to tell her?Reno considered for a moment what to say, then decided to use the family card. Money won't work, but Delara did care for her sister.

Right?

But as he considered it a little more, he was starting to feel less confident. He had seen the end of one hell of a sibling rivalry that culminated with one sister putting a bullet into the other. His own hatred for his brother was nothing commendable. Were Arien and his cases just special, or did all sibling rivalries end up with bitterness and loathing?

In the end, he didn't dial. He didn't think Elena would appreciate him asking for help when she was getting desperate; he certainly wouldn't want Arien calling Luca even if he, Reno, was stuck in a ditch. And Arien… she wouldn't have asked Reniel to spit on her even if she was on fire.

No. Asking Delara was out of question. They'd have to do this themselves. He could only hope that it would not be too late.

* * *

Arien walked into the next room, not looking forward to the call she had to make. It wasn't that she didn't dislike the person she was going to call, but she wasn't really all for letting others take the hit. But a job was a job, and she wasn't the one to decide whether to take it or not. At least, that was her excuse.

She dialled, and sat down in a stiff and uninviting chair as she waited. The other end picked up on the third ring. "Hi!" came the chirpy voice. "How're you?"

"Um, hi, Mitchie," Arien said, her tone slow. Truth be told, Reno didn't like the kid. "She's fuckin' annoyin'" was his judgement, and she could sort of see why; she had the loud brashness and the energy that could sometimes be taken as exuberance. Arien personally felt that Reno had no right being annoyed about it. It wasn't like he was much different, was he?

But the girl looked up to the Turks like they were some sort of heroes, and Reno severely disliked that sort of sentiment, and that, she could understand. The redhead knew what they were, and didn't like others' misconceptions about it. Whether this was to warn himself, she wasn't quite sure; she personally didn't mind, but then again, she wasn't that concerned with what others thought of her, for better or for worse.

Well.

"I need you to do a favour," Arien continued. "I'll pay. Twenty thousand, one payment. "

"Great!" came back the chirpy reply. Where did the kids get all this energy? Arien was exhausted, and while another bout of pain hadn't come after passing out in the helicopter, she didn't entirely feel up to herself. She was so tired of everything that sometimes she just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep. Evan and Kyrie, Mitchie… why did these kids have all the energy and enthusiasm in the world? She envied them for it.

Life sucked.

"Do you want me to come over?" came the frightfully excited question. "Or do you want to meet?"

"Er, no, that's okay." She scraped off the hair that had somehow decided to stick to her forehead. She shook her head, and wondered why her hair smelled like Reno. Weird. "I know you get around a lot, so I was wondering… do you know someone named Kyrie or Evan?"

"Yeah, sure!" Mitchie answered brightly. "I met them in Seventh Heaven a while back. We're pretty good friends, they sometimes come to watch me busk. Why?"

"You busk?" This was new. "Never mind. Can you keep a close eye on them, keep me updated once every few days?"

"That's it?" came the slightly crestfallen response.

"Yes."

"So, no hunting people down, nothing like that?"

"Er, no."

"Awww." She could almost hear the disappointment in the girl's voice. Then, the sudden "how's Reno and Rude?" caught her unawares.

"They're… good?" The tail end of the sentence came out slightly higher in pitch, as if she wasn't sure. "Why? Why do you want to know?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing."

Arien saw Reno gesturing in the doorway, making a motion to end the call. "All-right," she said, gesturing back that she'll be done soon. "Keep me updated every three days. Thanks." She hit END, then looked up. "What now?"

"Who was that?" He asked, coming in to sit down next to her. She moved her legs away from the outstretched position and scooted over when he motioned her to move. Yep, her hair definitely smelled like his cologne. What was going on?

"That was Michele?" Argh. Tail end came out as a question again.

"That little wimp who thinks we're heroes or somethin'?"

She sighed. Reno had met the girl a few times before, after the Meteor Crisis, when Arien had set the girl onto just sniffing around town and giving her information; a young girl like that had no trouble getting into many places where the Turks would have trouble even just stepping into. Rude didn't seem to mind her, and in fact was prone to feeding her sweets - she really had a sweet tooth - but Reno seemed to find the girl aggravating, even to the point of telling the bald man "stop feeding, she might learn bad habits". It was a general consensus that Reno's dislike was more territorial than anything else. In terms of maturity, the redhead was on the same level as the young girl.

"She is not, as you say, a little wimp," she reminded him. "Everyone has to make a living, Reno. You and I were in similar places, once."

"Don't remind me." He thought briefly of Angelica, but decided to forget about it. "Why the kid, anyway?"

"Kids tend to befriend other kids," she explained. "Unlike us adults, who treat each other with cool detachment and then go on our merry own ways. I think they feel that they need to stick together."

"And?"

"They know each other," Arien explained. "So it'll look far more natural for her to visit Evan than us bugging him. You know it'll put him on edge."

"Dunno why. We don't bite."

"Yes, but they don't know that, and they aren't convinced we won't," she reminded. "We're the scary people who kidnap people in the middle of the night and all that, Reno. And that won't change, at least for a while."

He shrugged. "Oh, we need to get someone science-y on the roster," he reminded. "Can you get Ivy to get in touch with anyone she used to work with?"

"I think I can. Why?"

"'Cause we need that thing figured out," Reno said as he stood up. "And we need Gareth and Magda. We need better software to triangulate where Boss and 'Laney is."

"Are," Arien corrected automatically, but then she nodded. "I'll get on it." She didn't need to call Ivy; all she needed to do was call BioGenTech and call in for a favour. Which, in regular societies, might have been called threaten. But semantics.

She called Gareth and Magda first. The two computer hackers still lived together, operating out of what looked more like a server room than a habitable place, doing only a deity knew what. When she called, Gareth's voice answered. "Hello! This is PCM computer service!" Gareth sounded as if he was reciting something by rote. "We repair, clean, and-"

"Cut it out, Gareth. It's me. How much is for a day of your service?"

"Oh, hi," said the hacker. "What sort of service?"

"We need better tracking software. Technically illegal."

"Since when do you guys bring me any legal work?" The man whined. "Usually I don't do that kind of stuff-"

"Gareth, quit it. I know you do dirt on the side."

"Fine, fine. A hundred grand, usually, but since you've saved my ass a few times, I'm willing to go as low as seventy-five."

"Forty."

"Sixty, and you're hurting me, Arien."

"Fifty-five."

"Deal. And you suck." Gareth sulked. "Let me see the software, the equipment and the works. I'll get Magda to come around sometime this week. Is that good?"

"Should work."

Next person didn't receive such a friendly call. Over at BioGenTech, which had amazingly survived the Meteor debacle and was now operating behind the front of a pharmaceutical, a young woman had received a call from a mysterious number. "Hello," the secretary answered, "This is-"

"Get Jack McKinnon on the line, please," said the caller.

"Who is this?"

"I'm a potential donor interested in his research, formerly of the Shinra Company subsidiary."

Apparently, the smell of money brought even scientific technicians come a-panting. "Hello?" said a man's voice a few moments later. "This is McKinnon."

"Hi, Jack," she said, mustering the sweetest tone she had in her arsenal, a tone that probably would have made Reno think something terrifying was going on.

"Who is this?"

"This is Arien? We used to go to school together?"

Silence. Then, "Oh! Oh!" Exclamation of recall. "Hi, Arien. How are you?"

"Good, good. Look, this is purely a business call-"

"It is?" Why the hell did he sound so crestfallen? The guy had flat-out rejected her, when they were sixteen. Some people were weird.

"It is, unless you want to make it otherwise. Listen, can we meet somewhere in the next few days? I want to talk about a business proposal. It's fairly important, so I want to do it in person." Correction: she could threaten more easily in person, rather than on the phone. It was much easier to show that one was serious when waving a pistol in front of the face, as opposed to just telling someone as a disembodied voice over the wires.

"Um, okay." There was a sound of pages being flipped. "How about tomorrow night? I should be off around five-thirty. How's six? Dinner?"

_Is this a date? Is he booking a date? _She panicked. _What the hell? I should bring Reno__… is it appropriate to bring a boyfriend to a date? Is this going to be a business meeting or a date? I really, really should have thought better when I was sixteen._

But she kept that sentiment out of her voice. "All-right," she said, trying to sound cheerful. "Six it is!"

"I'll see you then." He stopped, as if he wanted to say more. What was he going to say? "Um, bye."

"Bye!" She chirped, then sighed and sat back into the seat, remembered that she couldn't sit around, and went to their room, where Reno was sitting on the bed, scratching his head and looking frustrated. "Can you come to a dinner date?" She asked without any prologue. Reno looked up.

"Dinner date? Are we havin' a date?"

"Not you, me," she said, sitting down.

"Um, I'm confused. Is there something you haven't been tellin' me?"

She stared at him with raised eyebrows. He hastily raised his hands to placate her. "Hey, ya never know-"

"I got in touch with someone at BioGenTech," Arien explained. Reno scrunched his nose up at the name, but did not say anything further. "Anyway, the guy thinks we're going to be on a date, while I'm just going to be there to make sure he'll do his job."

"Who's going on the date?"

"Well, me, apparently. I need you to keep a watch over me, just in case."

"Just in case _what_?"

"Just in case he refuses to cooperate. You look far more threatening than I do."

"So why not Rude?"

"Because," she said with a grin, "you'll scare the crap out of him. Rude looks menacing but you look downright maniacal when you grin… yes, just like that," she added, watching Reno grin. He really would give Joker a run for the money. "I also got Gareth to agree. Magda'll be coming over in the next few days."

"Gotcha. Rude found the general area where 'Laney might be. Boss's phone's dead."

"At least it's better than nothing," Arien noted.

"Oh, just a note, if he tries to a move on you, I'll sucker-punch the guy. In the nuts."

She laughed at that. "No worries about that," she said, still giggling. "You're more than enough for me."

"What the hell is that supposed ta mean?!"

She suddenly stopped laughing, and looked into his eyes. His eyes were blue, so blue. "I don't need anyone else," she murmured. "I don't want anyone else."

That was about as close as a confession of undying love from her as he would ever get. If he could, he would have blushed; but as he just didn't have that gene in his body, he merely smiled, awkwardly, as she left to go to the kitchen.


	43. One Man's Date, Another Man's Job

I couldn't upload last week because I had to finish a proposal (no, I didn't get "Yes, of course" because it wasn't a marriage proposal) and I had to write an exam. But I'm back on schedule. I've no idea how long this thing'll run. Hopefully it'll be done by the end of this year.

Bloodwitch Raven - in the previous version it was a red flag, but I've changed stuff a bit, simply because I wanted far more Reno. More Reno is better for me, partly because Reno has evolved in my head from what we see in ACC to this redhead oozing sexiness. Not that he's not, but you know, more lethal sexiness.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - Delara is Elena's sister, Ellen is shotgun, Acid is Two Guns, Galen is Katana. Legend is Legend. I think that's his actual name. Haven't thought about Nunchaku and Knives, simply because I don't really know how Reno would have treated them. (I can kind of see Reno harassing Nunchaku in an elder brother-ly sort of way, though. But he looks like he's twelve.)

Date night! Here's a lesson, boys and girls: don't go on a sudden date with a Turk, unless you can fight your way out.

Chapter 42: One Man's Date, Another Man's Job

* * *

When Magda visited the next day, she got an unceremonious "the door's open!" and found the two Turks looking as if this was a Sunday. Reno was lounging around barefoot in the living room and Arien was napping on the sofa. Specifically, he was sitting next to where her head was. Her legs were hooked onto the arms of the furniture, and the redhead was reading through the printed pages, his posture relaxed, his feet thrown outward in front of him. Magda blinked, realising that she had never seen a Turk so… relaxed. She had only seen them in suits, or in Arien's case, on some mission. She had never seen them without guns blazing, game mode on. So she was a little shocked.

She stood, bag in hand, until Arien opened one eye. She sat up, her body unfurling, and she saw her navel for a second before it disappeared under her T shirt. "Hi Magda," she said as she stood up. Her long legs, clad in jeans, straightened as she stretched. She reminded the computer hacker of a black cat.

"Let me access the network," she said, pulling the laptop close. "Do you mind sitting next to me? Want anything to drink?"

"Not a problem," said the brown-haired woman, setting the bag down. "Um, coffee?"

"I'll get it," Reno said, getting up. Magda watched as the redhead sauntered into the kitchen, noticing the way the muscles moved under the thin fabric of his T shirt. Reno was hot, that was undeniable. It wasn't just the way he looked, or the architecture of his face, but something more; the way he carried himself, the way he smiled, the way his eyes danced.

"Arien?"

"Hmm?" She turned her head, cocking it, just like a bird. Her eyes, the colour of the stormy sea, looked into Magda's own.

"Can I ask you something?" She asked as she unpacked the equipment she had brought.

She nodded as Reno came back with two mugs of coffee. He handed one to Magda, then sat down with the other in his hand. Magda was curious about this, but then she remembered that Arien tended to avoid coffee unless she was tired or sleepy. Reno sat back down and went back to reading whatever he had been reading.

"Do you know of a company named FertiGen?" she asked.

Reno's hand tapped Arien's twice where Magda couldn't see. Arien knew, without Reno telling her, that she should tread carefully. She had just threatened FertiGen - or BioGenTech - and she didn't readily believe in coincidences. Not when her career had been half built on getting information and making things look like coincidences. They did exist, but not so often that would escape scepticism.

Arien kept a neutral face; not that Magda was trained in any way to read expressions, but it didn't hurt to be careful. "I have," she replied. "What about it?"

"Is it, you know, reliable?"

"Magda, are you trying to get pregnant?"

"What?" Magda blinked. "What? No! It's just that…" She stopped. "I'm not sure if I should be telling you this."

Arien shrugged. Usually, when people said this phrase, they were dying to tell it to somebody, but weren't sure if they could handle the consequences. The easiest way to make them spit out the information was to assure them that the consequences would be close to nil. Which wasn't hard to do.

"You know me, Magda," Arien said. "I won't tell anyone. Do you want Reno to leave the room?"

"Oh, no. I mean, he won't tell anyone either, right?" Arien looked at Magda and wondered just how she could be so trusting, then reminded herself that being a computer hacker hadn't exposed this woman to a lot of the crap that she had to put up with as a field operative. Computer hacking didn't involve too much lying; well, not as much as field operatives did, anyway.

Reno gave his trademark grin with the slightly raised corner of the mouth only on one side. "I can keep secrets," he said, his voice with the usual slightly sarcastic tone. "You learn to keep secrets or you end up in really tight spots." A wink. There was something about the way he winked, the slight curve of his mouth, that seemed to invite probing. A male 'come hither' look, if such thing existed.

"Gareth got a call," Magda began to explain. "About a week ago. Said they were impressed with our work, and wanted to offer a job contract."

"And?" Arien prompted.

"Well, we looked into the Shinra files, and we couldn't find the company, which was weird, because, you know, Shinra dealt with everything. But we did find a company holding the same sort of details, the address and stuff like that, under a different name." Reno disappeared into the kitchen with an empty mug in hand. He came back a few minutes later with his refill.

"The company was called BioGenTech," Arien interrupted before Magda continued. "FertiGen was their fertility division. After Shinra tinkered with genetics and stuff like Hojo is developing zombies went onto the streets, people got a bit nervous with the word combination of gene and technology, so they decided to take on the mantle of the fertility treatment company."

Magda blinked. "How do you know this?"

"I had to do some undercover work for the development and research." This was true enough, so even if Gareth and Magda decided to dig her files up, they'd find something that they'd automatically relate to what she had just said. She felt guilt for lying to her friend, but some things just weren't supposed to go around between teams.

Magda nodded again. "So, what do you think?"

"Details. I'm fond of details. What exactly do they want Gareth to work on?"

"Something about neural implants?" The hacker looked unsure. The dry sound of paper against paper was all that filled the room for the moment. "Gareth and I are going to be doing the actual implant programming part, not the implementation part. That's all I know."

Arien's phone beeped, and she glanced at it as she nodded. Of course; Reno's little refill trip hadn't been a refill trip at all, but rather an excuse to send her a message without Magda noticing. And looking at what he had messaged, she understood why; this wasn't the sort of thing he could casually blurt out in front of company. Well, not the type of company that Magda was. This was purely Turks stuff.

He had written in code and short-hand, but it was a quick message, and she only took a moment or two to read. What Reno had proposed seemed a little risky, and she wasn't exactly a big fan of the plan, but she had to admit that if it was successful - and that was a big if - then it would be far easier than doing it any other way. And she could knock two birds out with one stone, so there was much to gain.

And probably much to lose. But that was the way they lived, wasn't it?

"Hey, Magda," she started, feeling unsure about it and not happy about it whatsoever, "if you could get hold of the e-mail access for FertiGen, do you reckon you can access other files on the company from that?"

"Sure, that's not a problem, but…" Magda looked dubious as her fingers clacked on the keyboard. Arien's laptop had a loud spacebar that always clacked. "Why?"

"Well, you sound unsure about FertiGen. It just so happens that I have someone in the inside," Arien lied. "Let's see what they're actually planning before we make any decisions."

* * *

A few hours later, Magda was gone, and Reno was sitting on the bed, sulking and pouting as Arien got dressed. She wasn't sure what his problem was. It wasn't like this was an actual date.

"What should I wear?" she mused.

"How come you never dressed up when we went on dates?" Reno demanded. Arien turned away from the wardrobe, dressed in nothing but her underwear. She scowled. Reno ignored her expression and continued. "You always dress like you're eighteen when you ain't in uniform. Not that I'm complainin'… but I've never actually _seen_ you dress up, and I fuckin' live with you."

"If you'd recall, Reno, we never _went_ on dates," she reminded, her tone drier than the desert. "Unless you count work as dates. Because that's all we did together before you moved in."

"Oh yeah." He grinned. "Didn't we say something like a three months trial period?"

"Did we? I don't remember." She took out a blouse. "Hm."

"Who's this guy anyway? How d'you know him?"

At that, Arien's expression turned a little guilty. "You, ah, don't want to know," she mumbled as she put back the blouse.

"Actually, I kinda do. Spill."

"You asked for it," muttered the woman, then pulled out a black dress. "He and I went to the academy together."

"And you know where this douche is because…"

"I, er, well." She mumbled. "I used to have a crush on him. My first crush, actually. And then he kind of decided that it'll be a freakishly good idea to kind of go for the cool crowd. And then we parted ways. I just saw his name in the new employee list at FertiGen a few years ago."

"That's it?" Reno blinked.

"That's it."

"So no grudges or anything?"

Arien shrugged. "I mean, sure, I felt a tad betrayed, but it was illogical. And by the time we graduated, I think I talked to him twice that whole year." She slid her body into the black dress. "Zip me up."

Reno got to his feet and zipped her up. "So why're you so happy to beat him up?"

"I'm not. I just don't want that… thing forgotten in a box. And if beating him up gets information for Gareth, so much the better."

"Oh." He touched her naked shoulder, slid his hand down the arm. The skin under his fingers was smooth, and he pressed his mouth into where her neck ended and the shoulder began.

"Um, what are you doing?"

"Markin' my territory."

"What are you, a dog?"

"Lady, if you haven't realised, we dudes are all just dogs that can talk and shoot guns. But otherwise we're pretty much the same."

She laughed at that. "Since I work out being in a relationship with a male dog, then, I guess that makes me a bitch." Reno chuckled. "Let's get going."

The restaurant was slightly above the medium grade in Midgar, which made it the creme de la creme in the Edge. Reno went in a few seconds after Arien did, and watched as she was led over to a table in the centre. He promptly parked himself - the restaurant was fairly empty and the waiter told him to take his pick - and asked for a glass of whiskey. He had his part to play tonight, but he couldn't exactly just sit there and twiddle his thumbs.

The man sitting across from Arien looked about five years older than she did, and had a tired, domesticated look on his face that told the redhead that whoever this man was, he wasn't anyone who was _striving_ for something; trying to achieve a goal, whether it be a pay raise or trying to get the hell out of a place in one piece, gave the face a certain edge and vivacity that was noticeable miles away. But he didn't see it with this man; he looked like any other man who might be walking down the street. He tried to see what Arien had found attractive about him, and failed. His phone was on the table. Arien had called the phone from a scrambled number just as she was entering the place, and she hadn't given the man any time to put it elsewhere. She said something, and he took the jacket off.

A waiter came to take the order from Reno, and he glanced at the menu and ordered without really thinking. The waiter nodded sagely and walked away. From the way the guy looked, it was clear the man did not doubt that this was a date. Arien laughed, and he smiled, a dried, shrivelled husk of sweetness that might have attracted a young girl, years ago. But Arien was no longer sixteen. Time went on, and things changed.

Arien said something again as a plate of salad and a bowl of soup was brought in, and the man nodded, dropping the phone into the outer pocket of the jacket that was hanging off the back of the chair. The plates were set down, and the two began to eat.

Game time.

Reno got up and waded through the tables, most empty and waiting for customers. The low-light ambiance and the carpet that clearly pre-dated Meteor Fall muffled his sounds and made shadows dance as he made his way to the back of the room. Just as he went past the table where Arien and her 'date' sat, he tripped, falling to his knees and crashing into the chair.

"Oh fuck, I'm so sorry," Reno said as he filched the phone from the pocket. The man was too distracted by the soup spilt onto the table to notice. "Jeez. Must be the alcohol. You okay?"

"Um, yes, I am," the man said stiffly. Reno apologised again, clapping the man on the shoulder, then headed to the bathroom. He locked himself into a stall and then pulled out his own phone and began tapping on the screen. His phone would copy all the data from the man's mobile device and send it to Arien's computer, and then Arien would send the entire thing over to Magda so she could get into FertiGen's network. He wasn't sure he liked the idea of this 'neural implant' thing. For all he knew, meddling with Mother Nature inevitably pissed her off and that usually ended with a big flaming rock falling on everyone's heads. He preferred to avoid that, if possible.

The copy took a few minutes, so Reno relieved himself while waiting for the files to upload. And then he left. A simple drop of the phone near the man's feet - Arien can chalk it up on the crash from earlier - and he was back to his seat. He finished his dinner, which tasted horrible and made him question the meaning of life, and then Arien ordered something hot - probably tea - and the man ordered coffee. Reno, on the other hand, was trying to get the taste of the cheese out of his mouth. If it could be called cheese. He was starting to think that this restaurant took rubber erasers and called them Gongagan fromage. Would shooting the owner make things better?

People filed in and filed out, and the clock ticked. The man finally stood up, then Arien, and they left, the woman looking as if she was truly happy to be with the man. Which was an act and Reno knew it, but it didn't prevent him from looking forward to what was coming next. He'd be professional, but that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy the job.

The rendezvous point was a small cul-de-sac in between buildings that deceptively looked like a T-shaped back alley intersection. It was a perfect place for hookers to solicit their 'wares', junkies to shoot up, and people like the Turks to make people disappear. Reno went ahead of them and waited, leaning onto the wall and lighting up as he waited. The taste of cigarette filed his mouth, a dry, bitter taste, and white smoke escaped from his nose.

And then his heart nearly stopped when he saw a woman stop at the mouth of the cul-de-sac. Another man was with her, and she was arguing in a rapid machine-gun talk, her voice raspy from alcohol.

_Angelica. Fuckin__' Angelica. Don't you dare fuckin' come in here. Shit. Shit!_

He just knew that it was Angelica; it wasn't Arien, despite the silhouetted view that he got. it was dark, and Arien was the one with the darkvision, not him, but he remembered the voice, and besides, she was dressed like a hooker and reeked of men's obscenity and cheap perfume. He wrinkled his nose.

But thankfully, Angelica and the man went away, possibly to do business elsewhere. Reno finished the cigarette and waited. He could see down the alley, but those coming in wouldn't be able to see where he was. His phone vibrated in his pocket. Arien had signalled him.

Thirty seconds later, there she was, chatting, every nonverbal cue telling that she was a woman tonight, a woman on a date with a man she was attracted to, from the way she turned her head to the way she smiled. Reno grinned. Arien never acted like that; she was a shy thing, and the more she was attracted to someone, the more she pushed that person away, terrified that she'd get hurt. It had taken a bullet in his body and several missions together for her to finally trust him, and even then, she had been wary of him until Meteor Fall had happened. If the guy thought Arien liked him, he was a dumbass.

But the guy clearly thought it. Reno stepped out, hands in his pockets, feeling the baton shoved down the leg of his trousers and the pistol pressing into the small of his back. "So," he said, "we gotta talk."


	44. A Woman and a Killer

Part two of 'beat the crap out of the poor duck'. Next up, we'll be seeing some chocobo head.

100 reviews! Can I get a hallelujah?

Bloodwitch Raven: Thanks for giving me ideas... I definitely want to do a scene in FertiGen with guns blazing, so I just got a new chapter! Reno has enough screen time, so I'll be giving it to Arien, since Elena and Tseng are MIA.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - There aren't official names for the BC Turks except Legend, so I just took names from people's actual characters (Ellen was a name someone gave it to Shotgun in a playthrough). Roderick, though, is my invention. I just wanted to call the guy Rod.

Chapter 43: A Woman and a Killer

* * *

The soft breeze stirred up the wrappers and the stench of rotten food. The alley was just like any other back alley that she had been in, filthy, with a million people's debris scattered across the asphalt like some misbegotten memoir of people's dejections. It decidedly smelled bad, and for a moment Arien wondered how he was managing not to vomit everywhere, then decided that he must have worn the spray before coming here. Otherwise Reno'd be turning green and things would be spewing forth from his mouth.

The alley was empty, save for the three people; Reno, who was holding up Jack McKinnon with one hand, Jack, who was struggling, flailing like a fish, and Arien who stood as a watch-out. Arien watched as Jack's face registered panic and terror. Well, no wonder, really, since there was no one in the alley, she had practically led him into this, and the guy who had been waiting clearly didn't look like a normal person. There was Rude scary, which was just a big burly man scary, and then there was Reno scary, which was 'I don't know what the hell this guy is thinking and he might go postal because the chocolate bar was half-melted' scary. She had gotten used to Reno's insanity, but she corrected her assessment that he was fairly harmless. Reno was harmful. He brought harm to those he intended for by shovelful. It just so happened that he was also fiercely loyal, and that alone had saved everyone else on the squad from getting their limbs blown off.

The man stared at Reno, who was grinning. "You… you!" he tried to shout, but instead the voice came out as a weak croak. "You!"

Reno's grin widened. "Yeah, me," he said, his voice almost sultry. "You know who I am?" Arien watched, her face having lost all its sweetness. Reno shot a glance at her. Yes, this was the Arien DeVir that he knew so well, her expression almost haughty, her eyes intensely focused. This was the woman who got him insanely aroused. Quite honestly, he wouldn't have been so interested in her if she had been the smiling, simpering girl that she had been ten minutes ago. But now, she provided him with a challenge, an open invitation to crack her shell and take a look at the fleshy part inside.

The man choked. Or, specifically, Reno was choking him and the guy was seriously starting to struggle for air. Reno smashed the man's head into the filthy wall, his enhanced muscles having enough power to throw a man across the alley. His muscles strained but his hand was steady and unwavering. His eyes were predatory as he gazed upon the trembling man.

And Jack McKinnon knew that this redhead was a killer. "You're… the man who…" a wheeze of breath. Reno eased his hand a little. "You're the man who crashed into us…"

"Your cookie's got some good memory, Arie," Reno called over to the woman clad in the black dress. "Academy-trained, huh?"

From the corner of his eyes, Jack McKinnon looked at the woman. She was a tall and slender silhouette, her shapely legs extending from the hem of the dress that fluttered in the fetid wind. Her dark hair curled around her face and down one shoulder.

Her face was also colder than a glacier.

Had she always looked so cold? Jack wondered. That woman who, just a minute before, had been smiling, shrugging her shoulders coyly, tossing her hair away from her face, her mouth pouting. But now, she stood, her eyes silver in the light that illuminated the filth in the alley, her face expressionless. And this man… the man who had crashed into him during the dinner. He didn't look like a man with his head screwed on right. The light in his eyes was too maniacal, and it was inhuman, the way he was picking up and pressing him against the wall with one hand. And his arm wasn't straining either, as if he was just picking up a brick, not a full-weight human being.

"Let's talk, Mr McKinnon," the redhead said, grinning. "Promise to come all civil, and we won't be planting brass into your ass. We good?"

"Wh, whaddya want from me?" croaked the man. The redhead was slender; sure, his arms had muscles, visible under the shirt, but it just wasn't enough to pick up a man and manhandle him. He looked more like a model than a physical bouncer type, with flaming red hair, aquamarine eyes like a cat's, and his thin mouth curved into a grin that was, quite frankly, more terrifying than if he had a murderous expression on his face. His strength seemed beyond capabilities. So how? Th question whirled in his head; the guy was a regular punk, all-right, ear pierced, red marks on the cheeks, his haircut absolutely wild and so not cut for office work. The guy was clearly not academy-educated, and it looked like the dude had never even set a foot into any higher educational institution. A regular thug?

So what was DeVir doing with this guy? She wasn't the type to go cavorting with thugs. She liked rules, she was all into rules, and whatever she did was within the jurisdiction of the laws. She was good at undermining them, but she wasn't good at breaking them. So what the hell?

"P, please, please, let me go," Jack whimpered. "Please, I don't have anything. Oh god, please, oh god, just take my wallet, I have a wife and-"

The redhead raised an eyebrow. "First off," he said, "I earn more in a month than you earn in a year. Second, you don't have a fuckin' wife, although I guess I do know where your darling fiancee lives. Kinda plain Jane, but then again, some guys out there have fucked up minds." The man's grin got wider. "So you listen up good and keep your goddamn mouth shut, or you're gonna end up goin' down the drain and your girl's gonna be suckin' off so many guys that's all that's gonna be in her mouth until the next blue moon. _Capito_?"

A Turk, or even an Intelligence member would have noticed Reno's usage of Costan, but Jack was no such thing, so all he could do was nod. Or try to nod. The redhead's hand was wrapped around his throat which made nodding a bit of a challenge.

"Wh, wh, what-" he gasped for air, and the redhead adjusted his grip, allowing some breaths. "What do you want me to do?"

"Let's discuss that over some privacy, shall we? Arie."

Jack McKinnon looked in horror as the woman who seemed so into him a few minutes before threw a syringe-press at the redhead, who caught it in a smooth overhand. The last he remembered, Arien hadn't been the most athletic. How had she made that throw?

_Oh god, oh my god, I__'m gonna die._

His thoughts shorted out when the redhead pressed automated syringe into the neck. There was a sharp prick, and then the world turned black.

* * *

When Jack McKinnon came to, he found himself tied to a chair. It wasn't tight enough to seriously hurt him, but it rendered him immobile. That, and his mouth was taped shut. Arien was sitting in another chair, dressed in a T shirt and jeans.

And then his eyes locked onto the double-holster under her arms.

She was armed.

The pistols in the holsters were barely visible, but the grips peeked out every time she moved her upper body. The way she wore it told him that she wore it with ease and familiarity. Sure, Arien had been enrolled in shooting classes back at the academy, but she wore it with far too much ease to just chalk it up to academy training. The last he had heard, Arien had failed to gain admission to every place she had applied. She had gone to work for Shinra as some office girl, the last he had heard; he had thought nothing of it, except maybe a smug pity, since she had been working so hard - certainly more than anyone else he knew - and she had ended up serving coffee to the executives. Or something.

So why was she armed?

Her legs were thrown in front of her, and she wore lace-up shoes, comfortable to run around in. Her hair was now in a ponytail, giving her a severe look. Arms crossed, she sat, her body held defensively, her expression empty, as if she was trying not to show what she was truly feeling. She did not look at him, but there was a bottle of water on the table nearby with an empty glass. The beading moisture on the bottle told him the water was cold, and suddenly Jack found his throat parched. His mouth was gritty, tongue sticking to the side of his mouth from the dryness. He licked his lips, but it didn't do any good.

The place looked like an empty studio apartment, or a warehouse, with the scent of stale concrete, mixed with cheap coffee hitting the nose with aggression. The walls were bare, and there were almost no furniture, except a rickety round table and a couple of mismatched chairs placed carelessly and without an apparent plan. No windows, no clock. The place wasn't somewhere people lived in, cooked meals, and slept every night. He wondered where he was. For now, it looked like the redhead was gone; that redhead was trouble. That one wasn't afraid to kill, had probably killed and would do so again. Arien was armed, but he didn't believe that she'd be brave enough, or reckless enough, to put a bullet in his head. Besides, the woman was into him, wasn't she? He recalled her expression right before he passed out, but decided that she must be under duress.

"Oh look, he woke up," said a male voice. He turned his head, and saw the redhead with a mug of coffee. Pulling up a chair in front of him and sitting in it backwards, the redhead looked at him with some amusement in his eyes. "I thought academy types were trained to fight back and shit," he said to the woman.

"I learned most of the techniques in the Intelligence," she replied, rocking back and forth in her chair. _Squeak, squeak_, said the chair as she moved. "The academy teaches you stuff that I never used."

"Huh. I thought you guys were the elites."

Arien waved her hand dismissively. The redhead nodded to himself, then turned his attention back to the captive. "So," he said, "you're probably wondering why the fuck you're here. I'll cut to the short, so we can just get the hell outta here." He drummed his fingers on the back of the chair. His head was cocked as he scrutinised, his eyes almost sleepy.

_He__'s like a cat,_ Jack thought. _A cat pretending to be asleep. A cat waiting for a chance to pounce. And I__'m the rat. Fuck. Fuck._

"We need files from BioGenTech," the redhead continued. "Files starting with the number jay-oh-three-es-es. We need them, so you're gonna get them for us."

"I don't think he can answer with his mouth taped shut," Arien said dryly. Her dry tone, at least, hadn't changed. "Unless you intend to use telepathy."

"Oh, right." There was a sharp, quick pain, and he nearly screamed as he felt the downy hair around his mouth get ripped out along with the ripping sound. He opened his mouth to scream and cry for help, but then the redhead casually pulled out a handgun and aimed it at his face. The gun was real. It was very real. And although he had seen them in movies, it was very different to see them on screen from staring down the barrel with someone's finger on the trigger.

_Oh god. I__'m gonna die._

Jack paled visibly. "Those files are classified. I don't have the clearance." He barely managed a whisper, and his jaw, stinging and hurting, trembled. He felt his eyes sting, and realised tears. His hands felt clammy and his heart was in his throat. Why wasn't Arien stopping the redhead? Was she under the threat too? He was going to die, he was oh so going to die!

"Did I ask if you could get them? No. I said, 'we need them, you get 'em'. This ain't up for ifs, buts, or what about's, Jackie." The redhead dug into his pocket, and pulled out a crumpled pack of cigarettes. Pulling one out with his mouth, his left hand unwavering, he dug around in his pockets again, and produced a lighter with a flourish as if he was doing the finale for a magic trick. With a quick jerk of the thumb, he lit up, then took a drag.

"Listen. You can either say yes, and _maybe_ get fired," the redhead continued, "or you can say no, and then you can assure your ass I'll paint the walls with your brain. Your choice. You have thirty seconds to decide, then I'm gonna start finger-painting."

"I'll do it, just please, please leave-"

"Great. I'm so glad we're on the same wavelength." The redhead clapped Jack on the back. "Here's how this works. Part one, you gotta get the documents within five days, before someone comes to pick it up."

"F, five days?" The man gasped. "I, I can't do that!"

Arien sighed, exasperated. Truth be told, it would've been far easier to just mug the guy and do the thief job themselves, except that they needed something else done by this man. Which ruled out the easier option. But she could see that Reno was getting irritated. He wasn't very patient to begin with, and the whimpering was starting to grate on her nerves. _Surely he had more spine than this,_ she thought. Had she just gotten so used to men who made the impossible into possible that an average Joe looked as spineless as a jellyfish in comparison?

Well, trust Reno to come up with a simple solution. "Time to get finger painting," he said as if he was getting ready to get coffee.

That made Jack reconsider his options. There was a slow and reluctant nod.

"Wonderful. Part two. I need you to run a full analysis on this." The redhead stuck his hand down the pocket for the third time, then pulled out a vial. Inside the vial was a green liquid and what looked like a tiny, almost minuscule piece of jerky floating around

"Wh, what kind of analysis?"

"Full identification analysis. Just include the results in the packet," Arien supplied. Reno nodded.

"That."

"Is, is that it?"

"That's it, Jackie. You'll be home free. Five days from now, someone'll come to pick it up. You hand the envelope over, you're a free man. We good?"

Well, what was Jack McKinnon supposed to say, tied to a chair, with a deranged looking punk aiming a pistol at his head? He glanced over at the woman, who looked as if she was watching the bread rise. Her dark straight hair danced as she rocked back and forth.

"I, I'll do it," he whimpered. The redhead nodded, and motioned his partner to come forward. Arien got out of the seat and came near him, a roll of tape in hand.

"Wh, what? What's that?"

"Safety measures. It's that or cut your fuckin' tongue out. Again, your choice."

Things moved right along after that.

Reno and Arien left the man in the alley, blindfolded and gagged with tape, but with the hands freed. They went back to their place, where their faces as operatives fell off to reveal their faces as just living, breathing people who shared their lives with each other; there was no freshness of a new relationship, but rather the comfort of the old one, each person knowing the rhythm of the other as they washed, tidied up, and got ready to sleep.

Reno, who had already crawled into bed, watched as Arien brushed her hair. Her pink pyjamas looked oddly natural on her, the soft colour making her usually pale skin glow. She sat on the bed and swung her legs around, pulling the coverlet up. "So," she said, turning toward him, "which did you like more?"

Reno, who was staring at her face, started. "Eh?"

"The date me and the normal me. Which do you prefer?"

"Oh, that?" Reno flopped down onto the bed. There was a click, and the room was plunged into the soft darkness, illuminated by the bedside lamp. He felt the weight shift as Arien lowered her body next to him; he picked up a strand of hair, dark, glossy, and straight, and rolled the strand between his fingers. She was looking at him, her body on the side, her arm tucked under her head.

_The answer__'s obvious. It's the normal you, 'cause I don't want just a hot girl, I want someone I can rely on_, he thought. But he didn't tell her that; he couldn't, because for some reason he felt embarrassed. So he told her that he couldn't say, which got a light slap across the shoulder. Then she turned away and began to read. She didn't see the grin on his face, not the grin he showed to Jack McKinnon, but something far more gentle, and far more protective. When she was in the suit it was each man for himself, but when she was like this… well, she was his. No one's but his.


	45. Unforeseen Obstacles

Bloodwitch Raven - It wasn't much of a shitstorm, since I have that reserved for Reno. Arien doesn't like things that aren't in her plans, and she is trained to handle situations. But she can only do so much.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - I'm still trying to figure out how to add Arien's presence to the arc of the canon. This is becoming a little more problematic than anticipated, but the story will go on regardless.

Chapter 44: Unforeseen Obstacles

* * *

A few days later, Jack McKinnon was working at his desk when he saw a shadow across the writing surface. He looked up, and saw a young woman in a khaki cap and the standard issue uniform of a courier. "Hello," he said, his tone mild, "is there-". He stopped when she raised her cap. "Oh. It's you."

Arien smiled. Her ponytail trailed down her shoulder, and she looked good in her courier uniform. In truth, she had stolen the uniform, which hadn't been that difficult to do; ever since Midgar's demise, courier services had plummeted, since going to the next continent had become a brave adventure instead of boring travel. But things still had to get delivered, at least within the city, and when one couldn't afford Cloud Strife, one resorted to using other services. As the result, the depots were in a bedlam, and it hadn't been much of an issue to sneak in, filch a uniform, and get out. The uniform itself was a sleeved khaki overall, so she also got a uniform jacket to wear over it. It was uncomfortably hot.

"I'm here for the package?" she said, her tone bright.

"Oh, right." Jack bent down, and produced a package from his desk drawer. "Here. Are we done now?" He backed into his chair when she bent down, elbows on the desk with an awfully lovely smile on her face. The soft, powdery fragrance of flowers hit his nose, and her eyes looked into his, as if she adored him. She had a way of looking at him as if nothing else existed in the world. He silently compared her to his fiancee, and realised that his fiancee hadn't willingly talked to him for a week. What was going wrong here?

She extended her hand, still smiling. Mesmerised, Jack obediently handed the package over. She slid the sheets out, checking, then smiled again, satisfied, and slid the envelope into her jacket.

"Yes, we're done," Arien cooed, bending down again. "Thanks-" She sprang back up, her hand diving into her jacket. Jack stared blankly, then realised that a dark mist was congealing, swirling and congealing on the floor. The woman's smile disappeared, and then Jack recoiled when he saw what she held in her right hand.

It was a pistol. Not a toy gun, but the real deal, a kilo of polished black steel. She flipped off the safety, her eyes hardening.

_Damn it, why do I always end up fighting these guys?_ She thought. _Now what do I do? Do I ditch him and run? _That'd probably get McKinnon killed. Did she care if he died? Well, no. So now what?

_We need more information on the company, Arien,_ said a nasty voice in her head.

No ditching, then.

She sighed softly, then without turning, said, "Stay behind me."

"Arien, what are you doing?!" Jack shouted. "What-"

The black mist solidified, revealing a silver-haired boy. Arien paled at this, but the young boy merely walked up to the desk. "So you're the one who's been testing _Mother_," the boy said, his voice softer than the grey dawn. "Hello."

Arien trained the nozzle onto the boy's head.

"Arien! That's a boy! What are you doing!"

"That," came Arien's reply, her voice losing its soft sweetness and hard as steel, "is no boy."

"What are you talking about? Of course he is, he's just a teen-"

He couldn't finish the sentence, since the other two occupants in the room moved at the same time. The boy had somehow produced a blade from somewhere - he wasn't quite sure where - and had come rushing in, and Arien had pushed him down to the floor and fired. There was a sharp sound of the gunshot, a metallic noise, and then Arien fired again. Somehow she had produced another pistol and was now dual-wielding.

Three bullet holes appeared in the wall, and the alarm began to ring. Jack felt himself getting yanked to his feet, and then yanked again toward the window. "Wh, wha-"

"No time!" Another gunshot. The glass shattered, and he felt himself shoved toward the shattered glass. "Jump!"

The man gaped at her. "Through, through the window?!"

"I certainly don't mean the wall! Now jump, or I'll shoot you."

And looking at Arien's face, he knew she meant every word of it. The sharp edges looked dangerous to say the least, and the man paused in front of the window. Arien looked behind, saw the black mist solidifying again, and grimaced. This was going to get ugly.

Pushing the man aside, she used the barrel of the Sig to clear away the sharp glass that still lined the frame. "There," she said, almost pushing the man out. "Come on!" Grabbing the man by the collar, she threw herself out the window, just as the black mist launched itself against the two. There was a flash of silver, and Jack screamed as he felt the impact against the sole of his left shoe. She twisted her body mid-air and turned, firing at the pursuer, once, twice, then thrice. Each time the boy dissipated into a dark mist, and more bullet holes appeared in the wall. There were rapid footsteps approaching, and people's voices. Someone had noticed the commotion. There was a return fire, and it hit Arien in the thigh, and she nearly screamed. She managed to keep her voice down as they fell through the air; it hadn't hit anything vital, which was lucky, and hadn't shattered her femur, which was more than fortunate. But it hurt like hell. She

They landed on the ground, two floors below the office, Arien cushioning the fall by easing Jack down instead of letting him crash to the ground. Which was not Arien's kindness but rather a logistic choice, considering that they needed to get away from the building, and fast. Terrified and exhausted, he was about to collapse, but Arien gave him no time to catch his breath. Ripping away her pant leg and applying pressure to her own wound, she cast a quick glance at his foot, saw that it wasn't bleeding, and yanked him to where she had parked her motorcycle, sorely wishing Reno was here. This type of rapid getaway was Reno's thing, not hers, and the silver-haired monster being there had not been in her plans. She didn't need to order him to get on - just a glare seemed to do the job - and as she turned the key in the ignition, she catalogued her options. Healin? No way. Jack's place? Not enough security. That meant her place. Reno was going to be one happy man tonight. She was not looking forward to it. She nearly yelled at Jack to stop suffocating her, then simply told him to ease his grip on her midriffs, remembering that she had done the same to Reno, once. She silently wondered how the redhead had put up with her ineptitude earlier on. She didn't really cast him as the benevolent and patient elder brother type. Her thigh throbbed in pain but she gritted her teeth as she manoeuvred through the avenues, trying her utmost best to get to safety

The two didn't talk until they got to the apartment. And with a gun pointed at the small of his back, Jack didn't feel like talking even after they had gotten off the motorcycle.

* * *

"So," said Reno with a sour face, "you had ta bring him here?"

"What, you wanted me to bring him to Healin?" the woman snapped back. "That's a brilliant idea!"

Reno had arrived - with a full package of 'keep a man in one place' apparatus - with a grouchy face and a complaint from Rude that he needed a day off. Technically it had been Rude's day off, until he had been called in and Reno had dashed off back to the city. He had complained that he had been making 'informational transaction' with someone - whatever that meant - but Reno didn't pry. He simply didn't have the time. Arien sounded panicked, and after hearing "that silver thing was there!", he wasn't surprised. Arien hated surprises. She panicked when there was one. Reno had also been in for a surprise when he saw her hobble. A cursory glance told him that she had a penetrating gunshot wound to her leg, and that had caused him to mouth some explosive curses that ended when Arien demanded to help her sit down and administer a local anaesthetic so she could get the slug out. Reno had to agree, since he couldn't very well take the slug out himself. He could dismantle a bomb but when it came to wounds, he was fairly cack-handed.

Jack McKinnon was tied to a chair - again - and blindfolded. There was a cuff around his right wrist, a biometric cuff with a chain attached, the other end locked around a door handle. Arien had blindfolded him before entering the street as a safety precaution. Their apartment was a safehouse for the Turks, and to have someone from BioGenTech know its whereabouts was a big no-no. Reno sat in front of him, looking like a cat that had just swallowed a big canary.

"All-right," said Reno, "start from the beginning."

"I went to make the pick-up, I got the packet, then the silver thing appears, this idiot just sits there, so I had to get him out _and_ make sure to get it off our tails," Arien said, tapping her uninjured foot against the wooden floor, arms crossed. She looked irritated. "This is why I said this was a two-man job!"

"Sure, and the boss man said it's a solo job," Reno countered. "Don't blame me. I never said this should go solo."

"Not that his decision meant anything," she griped. "You still had to come here."

"Who the hell are you?!" Jack exclaimed.

"Shut up," was the response from the two, said in unison. Reno turned back to Arien again. "So now what?"

"He can't go back to the office for a while. I shot the place up."

"What?!" Jack exclaimed again. Reno hit him.

"Why the hell did you do that?" asked the redhead.

"Because the thing was coming at me with a blade and was about to skewer me like a choice bit for barbecue?" Arien answered. "There weren't that many options to choose from. It was either choice bit or shoot."

"Hm. Okay." Reno kicked at the man's left leg. The man yelped. "So what do we do with him?"

"We'll have to keep him here."

"No. Fucking. Way."

"We can't turn him loose, and the other place is out of question."

"What about the warehouse?"

"I'm not going to stick around in that warehouse, babysitting a blindfolded idiot, until someone comes around to take over. So if we're going to stick him in the warehouse, you can watch over him, not me."

"Hey, he's your crush, not mine!"

Arien's expression became frostier, if that was even possible, and Reno realised that he had just done significant damage to Arien's mood. His face sheepish, he mumbled an apology, and the woman's expression softened. Just a bit. Her face looked almost regretful as her lips curved upwards, ever so slightly, a ghost of a smile that told him she wasn't going to hold it against him. For a moment, Arien's face as an operative had fallen away, to be replaced by her face as a woman, and that face said that she missed him. Terribly.

Of course, that expression disappeared when Reno looked like a cat that had swallowed a canary again. She washed her hands in the basin, dried it, then pulled on a pair of surgical gloves. She was going to hate the next part.

Reaching for the scissors, she cut away the fabric around the wound in her thigh. Now that she could actually pay attention to it, her thigh was starting to feel numb, but her wound was also starting to heal and close. She needed to work fast.

"Where's the bottle of saline?" She asked, reaching for it and not finding the bottle.

"I'll go get it."

Reno disappeared down the corridor, and Arien waited. Peeling back the khaki cloth now died murky brown, she reached for the forceps.

"What are you doing?"

She nearly jumped. Looking up, she saw Jack leaning forward, staring at her leg. His blindfold had somehow fallen down, and she cursed her shoddy job for a second. "Why isn't your blindfold up?"

"It fell down. What are you doing?" He asked again.

She gingerly touched the flesh, winced. This was going to hurt really bad. "I'm extracting the slug," she said tersely. "If you don't mind?"

Jack watched as she touched her thigh again. Exposed, the angry red looked even worse against the milky white. He swallowed. "Why don't you go to a doctor?"

She glared at him. "Because it invited too many questions," she snapped. "Any more questions?"

"Do you need help?"

Arien thought for a moment. The truth was, it might help to have an extra hand on deck, but she was also pretty sure Reno would fly off the handle and probably kill this man if she allowed him to touch her. Untying him was also a pretty dumb idea. "No, thank you. I have help."

"The redhead?" Jack snorted. "You know he's not going to be of much use, Arien. He might be good with a gun or something, but with a suture needle-"

"Neither are you," she shot back. "So if you please, let me do this."

"As you wish." Jack sat back into the chair again. Arien snipped away the fabric and had just finished when Reno came back, a bottle of saline in his hands. He opened the cap, but did not break the silver seal, and handed it to her.

"Thank you," she murmured as she dumped the liquid into the wound. It tingled. Taking a sterile scalpel, she made an incision into her leg. The acrid stench of blood was starting to fill the room. Reno looked unperturbed. Jack was starting to gag.

She put the scalpel back onto the tray, then reached for a long-nosed pair of forceps. Thankfully, she didn't have to dig around too much to find the slug, and within moments she was pulling it out. Blood welled, trickling down her thigh.

Jack looked green.

Surgical dressing and bandaging, and she was done. She had no doubt that this would have required a physician if she hadn't been a Turk, but as she was, she was going to heal, likely with no infection. She should be good in a few days, if watching Reno heal had given her any guess. Reno had come back - before the Meteor Fall - with more wounds than a 7 year old boy with a penchant for running around.

She missed those days. She had called those days Mondays, after pesky boss Tuesdays and dodging Hojo Wednesdays.

"You gonna be okay?" said Reno's voice from above her head. She looked up, and Jack did not miss the brief conversation that occurred silently between the two; a conversation without words, using eye cues that only came from familiarity. She nodded.

"Why?"

"I gotta go," said the redhead, standing up, waving his phone. "I think baldy's had enough for the day."

"What about him?" Arien asked, pointing.

"I guess we gotta keep him here. But if he sleeps in the bed, he's buyin' it." With that, the redhead walked out. The door closed, there was a rattle, and then the _pat-pat-pat_ as Reno walked away, getting fainter and fainter. The air smelled of him, the scent mischievous, masculine, but boyish at the same time. She inhaled, almost felt as if he was here, and closed her eyes, enjoying his scent, missing him already, wanting to run her fingers through his red mane, see him smile that crooked smile, plant a kiss - always askew and on the corner of her mouth - before he kissed her properly again. She wanted some alone time, preferably with Reno, not Jack.

So she was jolted awake from her reverie when Jack asked her a question. And then felt an evil satisfaction when she answered him.

"What's your relationship with him?" he had asked.

She smiled, and Jack saw for a moment the true face Arien shared with Reno: not the bright smile that she had given him, but something softer, calmer, almost dreamy. The smile that was almost bittersweet. And he knew, in that instant, that this was the smile she gave to the man she had given everything up for. It wasn't the smile she had given him at the dinner date. That had been nothing but a pretence. It had been a lie. All a lie.

But her answer was crude. "I'm sleeping with him," she answered simply, her eyes observing his shock.


	46. Lonely Phone Calls

Bloodwitch Raven - I'm not entirely sure if Jack's the jealous _type_, but his own relationship with his fiancee's probably very, very stale... while Reno and Arien's relationship, thanks to all the bumps, is far from stale. Reno's complex so Arien has a lot of discovering to do.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - Reno being a clown of the movie is a bit of a problem... you do see flashes of him being the serious assassin, but that's rarer in the movie than the actual game. I'll have to fill in a lot of details, I suppose, to not break the character.

Late, but I'm done with my exams. Now I have the summer to finish this thing...

Chapter 45: Lonely Phone Calls

* * *

The next morning, near the town square, Tifa Lockheart was wiping her hands on a towel. Keeping the bar running was a full-time job, and with Cloud gone, she had a lot on her plate. Denzel was still ill, and Marlene, waiting for her father to come back, sometimes showed a sad face when the little girl thought no one was looking. It upset the young woman to see such a morose expression on the little girl's face, but there really wasn't much she could do about it. Maybe Aeris could have done something, but Aeris, like so many other things in her life, was gone.

_She's in a better place now,_ Tifa tried to tell herself. But it wasn't doing much. She instinctively knew that unlike the other souls, Aeris would not lose herself in the Lifestream - she seemed special in that way, sharing a sort of one-ness with the world - but that didn't necessarily mean she was in a better place. It just meant she would not succumb to oblivion, as the others would.

"The Lifestream concentration in the atmosphere is at an all-time low-" said the radio. The phone rang, its ring incessant and sounding urgent. Tifa rinsed the glass, set it on the counter.

"He's not here anymore," she said to the air.

The air did not respond; the radio continued to babble about the Lifestream levels and Geostigma, a glum and dreary subject these days. Everyone seemed to have them; despite the new monument that had gone up, despite the new buildings that continued to sprout, the continued presence of the malady cast a gloom over the town. People, as if they were scared that the disease will catch them if they stopped moving, went about in a hurried scuttle, and those who remained still were the dead and the dying. And the dying she saw in droves, in the town, in the back alleys, falling and slowly releasing their tenuous holds on their lives.

The city was grey.

The phone continued to ring incessantly. Someone really wanted to talk.

The barkeep stopped the tap, wiped her hands on the towel that limply hang from a hook, then walked out of the kitchen area. Up the stairs, and the phone still continued to ring. Tifa stopped for a moment, hearing Denzel moan about Cloud, cursed the blond man for a moment, for not being here, for running away. He had just smiled. And then left one morning, and had not returned.

The phone continued to rang.

She sighed, turned, and walked into the office. The handset was cradled in its usual place, and she put her hand on it; the desk was a mess, with photographs of the Geostigma lesions scattered upon the surface, and leather-bound books, marked by small strips of paper, lying around, abandoned and forgotten by its master and waiting for the return. She pressed the handset to her face. "Hello, this is Strife Delivery Service," she recited. "We deliver anything you want de-" the litany was interrupted by a snarky voice, the words pronounced as if the speaker was grinning while speaking. It was not a voice she had heard in the past few days, although she thought she vaguely remembered the tone, sarcastic, almost amused. She knew the voice, didn't she?

"Who is this?" She asked.

She knew the voice, knew it well. And then the man named himself, and she smiled. She had once pleaded to it, had once thought it the symbol of corruption and everything that was wrong with the world, but she had come a long way since then. She had learned that not everything was as it seemed, and this man, for better or for worse, was one of those people who definitely was not as he seemed. So instead of tensing and going on the defence, she merely chuckled, and imitated the man's particular drawl.

"I remember."

* * *

"Great," Reno said, hearing Tifa's chuckle. Tifa was one of those people who, after getting into all sorts of trouble, nearly blowing up a city, and pretty much getting into every sort of mess one could imagine, had calmed down, and settled into the sprouting city. Which was a stark difference from the Turks, who really did not know where they belonged; in Healin they felt uncomfortable because they were not ill per se, and in the city they felt they did not fit because their leader was holing up in Healin. Reno sometimes wondered how some people just settled and some people never did.

Arien was curled up in the single seater, looking like a cat. She had another attack the previous night, and looked particularly fragile. The attacks were getting worse; Reno knew, instinctively, like an animal that knew a fellow animal's wound, that Arien's time was running out. It wasn't quickly running out, no, but it was definitely running out. Soon the attacks will be more frequent as well as more severe, and then, if the cure wasn't found… he shook his head, as if it would chase that ominous thought away. Arien was a survivor. She would survive. She had to. And she had no reason to just give up and go. She wanted a happy ending just as much as he did, and she was going to fight, teeth and nail, to live. She had just returned from delivering Jack McKinnon to one of the warehouses, after Reno decided that shoving the said man into a closet and locking him in there 'until further notice' was a bloody brilliant idea. Reno valued his private time, and he became tetchy when what he thought was his privilege was taken away; and when Reno demanded privacy with a particularly maniacal grin on the face, the best course of action was to do as he asked. Because the aftermath was usually ugly. The room smelled of coffee, and she breathed in deeply, vaguely remembering the president noticing the smell of coffee on her breath during the party in Junon. She wondered whether Reno's insistence to have Jack moved came from some territorial protectiveness. Probably. The way he was going, sooner or later he was going to put on a show screwing her in front of the man while the said man was tied up or something. She imagined it, then winced. She wouldn't put it past him to be decent enough not to do it.

"Hey, listen," he said, stretching his legs out, "we need to talk to Cloud. Is he around?"

"We?" came Tifa's echo.

"Yeah. We," came the response, and no further elaborations. "Look, this ain't somethin' I can just casually ask over the phone, so can you please call the blondie and tell him to get his ass to Healin?"

"Why don't you call?"

"I did. I get his goddamn answering machine."

Tifa sighed. Getting hold of Cloud Strife was a challenge for anyone these days; the blond man seemed to be doing his job well enough, but when it came to personal calls, he was about as elusive as the wind. She wasn't sure if she could get the message to Cloud, but she answered that she'll try.

"Hey, that's all you can do," said the redhead over the phone. "Thanks, Tifa." Then he was gone, leaving a phantom smell of blood, unburnt cigarettes, and gunpowder in Tifa's nostrils. Reno wasn't exactly a _bad_ guy, but he did bad things, and he seemed unapologetic about it. The Turks were notoriously bad, and before actually getting involved with them, Tifa had thought of them nothing less than bogeymen, kidnapping, killing, and doing whatever that struck their whimsy. But after meeting them… well, Tifa had learned not to judge people by the covers so quickly. Sure, Reno was bad, but that didn't mean he didn't eat cheese and wear tidy jumpers like normal people.

Well, Reno might not wear tidy jumpers - he looked a mess all the time - but he seemed normal enough, whenever she saw him.

Putting the phone down, Tifa guiltily relished in Reno's positivity. Despite all the faults the redhead had, negativity wasn't one of them. And when the air was filled with such gloom and doom, it was a bit refreshing to see someone fight so hard, and to think that they had a winning chance against something intangible. Tifa wasn't sure _what_ Reno was fighting, but she knew that he was fighting against something. And the redhead was giving all his best, as usual. In situations where people just found everything futile and walked away, Reno - for better or for worse - seemed to double his vigour.

Tifa called Cloud, got no response, but apparently Reno did, since he ended up calling Tifa again the next day from Healin. Arien was still in the Edge, doing this and that, taking care of things, making sure that Jack McKinnon won't end up going home in a bucket. She was also monitoring BioGenTech while matching the data from the specimen found in the north and the JENOVA data from the preliminary analysis, years ago. Before Reno left, she had stopped him as he was about to step out. She looked pale, and for a moment, he had thought she was having another attack; but she didn't look to be in pain, so he stopped tying his shoes.

"What's up?"

"I'm not sure yet, but it looks like that thing is… well." She shrugged. "Be careful."

"I will."

Now that the results were in - Arien had confirmed that yes, this was indeed JENOVA - Reno was getting worried. JENOVA was one nasty jack-in-the-box, with a monster ready to spring out. So he called Tifa.

"Hello?" she said.

"Hey. Not to bug or anythin'-"

"Yes you are." Tifa chuckled again. It was so different from Arien's laughter; Arien's was sharper, a little more derisive. He wondered why. "Otherwise you won't call. What's up?"

"Can you tell Cloud to please, for fuck's sake, hurry the fuck up? We're not exactly on tea time here." He sounded… odd. Tense, even. Reno was tense? Well, sure, he usually was a high-strung guy, but that tension was usually just bubbling under the facade of an easy-going sarcasm; besides, from what she had heard, Reno had survived more catastrophes in a year than what people went through in a lifetime. So why was he so tense? Why was he tense enough for the nervousness to bubble over and spill into the voice over the phone?

Tifa felt uneasy. But she decided not to let him know; instead, she said "I will. Did he get back to you?" in a voice lighter than air.

"Yeah. He sounded like Debbie Downer got to him or somethin'. But isn't that, like, his normal mode?" Tifa took offence at this, but if Reno noticed, he didn't show. "Anyway, we're tight on schedule here."

"What sort of schedule are we looking at?"

"Faster he gets here, less crap there'll be." There was a noise, Reno hollered "I'm comin'!", and then Reno said, "I gotta go. Thanks, Tifa."

"It's not like-" too late! Reno was already gone, probably to cause more mischief, or do whatever the Turks did these days. She dialled Cloud's number, expecting it to go straight to voicemail, which it did.

When was the last time she had heard Cloud actually speak? She couldn't remember.

_What is he running away from?_

She had a feeling she knew the answer, but decided not to address it. "Reno called," she said to the unfeeling silence. "He asked to just please hurry. He sounded weird, but…" she didn't know how to finish the call, so said "be careful", feeling low. Yet another day with no Cloud and things to do. The days stretched on, with Cloud running from something, and her unable to help. What was she supposed to do? She couldn't understand what Cloud's problem was.

She looked at the phone, then put it down. She felt like crying for a second, but her tears had already dried up, if she ever had any after Aeris died. And besides, she couldn't cry. She didn't have the luxury to cry. She had people to take care of, a business to run, stories to listen to. Her stories could wait until Cloud came back.

But will he?

* * *

"I don't like this," Reno said, throwing himself bodily onto the sofa.

Rude looked at him. "I thought you did," he said, mildly. "After all, you seemed to push yourself for the specimen."

Reno shrugged. "Sure, I did. We all want to keep the boss man happy, right? That doesn't mean I think this is a good idea." He made a face as if someone had made him swallow a lemon. "That thing was nothing but a heaping mound of trouble back then, and I doubt anything's changed now. That thing should've been covered in concrete and shot into space on a cannon or something, not dug up like it's a pirate treasure."

"So it's a match?"

"DeVir said she's ninety-nine percent sure. Which means that piece of shrivelled jerky can probably get us killed."

Rude did not respond. This was Reno's rant time, and he knew better than to interject when Reno was blowing off steam. He was well aware of the pain his best friend suffered thanks to the 'shrivelled piece of jerky' and its misbegotten 'son'.

Reno didn't need much to survive. He could live in the gutters and still be cheerful at the end of the day. But pride… that was another thing entirely. Reno didn't have much self-pride, and that one anchor that held him down from turning into a full-blown sociopath was his pride in himself as an agent. The repeated slam-down of the past few years had taken its toll on the redhead. And Arien… well, she wasn't part of his 'job' life in a sense. Reno kept a strictly compartmentalised scheme regarding the woman. 'Arien' was the woman he slept and ate with, 'DeVir' was the agent he relied on as a coworker. This dichotomy was probably going to come back and bite the redhead in the rear some day, but so far, it was a scheme that worked.

"We really need to look for boss and 'Laney," Reno groused. "Arien's workin' on it, but not sure when her high-tech stuff will get the job done."

"High-tech stuff?" Rude leaned forward.

"Yeah. Something about triangulation and all the jazz. She roped in some of the tech guys from the Intelligence." Reno sat up. "Acid's doing the legwork, but you know how he is. We need more people."

"We need more people, period." Rude glanced at him. Reno nodded. He knew what Rufus Shinra wanted, and it happened to coincide with what _he_ wanted; to see Shinra reborn again, for what was he without the company? A blackjacket nothing. A punk. A gang member, but no longer with a gang.

_I__'m pretty much nothing without being a Turk. _

Well, at least, as an agent anyway. Reno knew that Arien wouldn't care if he was lame and bed-ridden for the rest of his life, but that was Arien's opinion, not his. He wanted to be an agent. He wanted to feel the danger rushing through his veins, thrumming in his ears. He needed it, he needed to be running, and for that, he needed an enemy. An enemy he could track down and kill. An enemy that he could touch, see the shape.

His thoughts were interrupted by the steady _tap tap tap_ from the outside, the sound getting louder. Footsteps, coming up the ramps that led up to the front doorway. Reno and Rude got to their feet at once. "Someone's comin' up the ramps," Reno mouthed.

Rude nodded, and disappeared down the corridor. The redhead stood, feet apart and squarely planted on the floor. If it was a friendly face, then he'd know; he'd know their footsteps, Elena's bubbly sprint, Tseng with his decorum, Arien's rapid power walk. This was none of them, and the shoes would be heavy, from the way they seemed to hit the wood.

He waited, a grin on his face. Whatever it was on the other side of the door, he'll be ready for it.

Or else.


	47. Interested Parties Uninterested Men

Bloodwitch Raven - well, we all know how that went down. But hopefully Reno's less of a clown and more of a snarky assassin here; I don't really see him as a kid's guy, so not sure how I'd pull that off.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - Further complications for the Turks! They'e going to be in a lot of bad days for the next few weeks, but hopefully I can end this before the summer's out.

NOTICE: I will not be uploading next week, due to Anime Central Convention happening from Friday. Hopefully I will upload on Monday or Tuesday.

Chapter 46: Interested Parties. Uninterested Men.

* * *

The door opened.

The next moment, Reno's baton was out, intercepting a huge blade being swung down. The impact almost made Reno's teeth vibrate, and the force travelled down his arm like a shockwave. He countered, then swung, running forward with a roar.

The chocobo head side-stepped, looking at him as if he was a moron; Reno, unable to stop the momentum, ran out the doorway. The chocobo head continued to look as if he was a moron. Then he slammed the door in his face as pivoted on the heel.

For a mopey, whiny guy, Cloud Strife could be a real jerk.

Reno opened the door. He really felt the need to be a smart-alec, because he didn't like being made a fool of. "Not bad, man," he commented. Cloud, his expression screaming "I am a brooding emo with a dark past", slammed the door in his face again. Then Reno heard a metallic _click_. The bastard had locked the door as well.

He really was a jerk.

Reno heard slow and steady footsteps, the footsteps not as clunky as Cloud's. It must be Rude. "Hey Rude! You look cool!" Reno yelled. Aaaand no response. Nobody really understood his sense of humour, and Reno sulked. Then Rufus was talking - something about ex-would-be whatever - and then Cloud was mumbling.

This was boring. Reno leaned onto the rail, lighting up despite Rufus' constant demand that he smoke off the premises.

Inside, Cloud was telling Rude that he was unlucky, and Rufus Shinra, seated in a wheelchair, was trying to convince Cloud to help them out by telling the blond delivery boy that he survived the building falling apart. Reno had no idea how this was going to convince anyone, but then again, he was no expertise in convincing anyone sans gun and blood. So far, it seemed to be working, because Chocobo head hadn't turned and left yet.

"What do you want?" The blond man demanded.

Rufus was not listening. "Just before the building collapsed-"

"Who are those guys that attacked me?" Cloud continued.

Rufus continued to talk. Cloud lost his patience and threatened to leave.

"I need your help," said the former president.

And then Chocobo Head delivered his favourite line, "not interested", which couldn't be further from the truth, because whenever Cloud said that line he always got involved. It was basically his way of saying "yeah, I care, tell me more!". But saying that was apparently too honest for this brooding bundle of emotional mess.

"We, the Shinra Company," Rufus began, "owe a huge debt to the rest of the world."

_Here comes the speech._

"We cannot blame," Rufus continued, "those who deem us for turning this world into this sorry mess. Therefore, we must repay the debt, no matter the cost."

Okay, this was enough. Reno was very, very bored. "C'mon, open the door!" he shouted, tossing the cigarette butt - smoked and stubbed out - down to the gravelly ground below. Nobody paid him any attention.

"As our first step, we began investigating the effects Sephiroth had left behind," Rufus talked on. "Two years since then… what is the biggest threat to this world that has begun on its path to recovery?"

A pregnant pause.

"Yes… the unpleasant Geostigma Syndrome. We believe that this disease stems from Sephiroth."

_We did?_

It made sense, though. Arien's attacks increased in frequency after visiting the northern crater and dealing with JENOVA, and this epidemic had begun as soon as Sephiroth had been vanquished. And the silver-haired thing… Sephiroth's hair had been silver, and although it seemed a far-fetched idea to just connect the dots because of the hair colour, Reno wasn't the one to dismiss odd coincidences. Everyone had thought Sephiroth was gone, but what if he wasn't? What if somehow he was still here? The dead did not depart from this world; they became one with the Lifestream, or that was how the story went. So who was to say Sephiroth hadn't become one with the Lifestream as well? What if he had tainted it?

"The society believes the mako reactor, the mako energy, and the Lifestream are the causes. But is that really true?" Rufus was still talking. "The Lifestream came to be with the planet, and it has been over forty years since mako energy has been put to consumer use. Despite that, Geostigma has never entered history… So." Rufus paused again. "What had happened in our era? There is one thing that we can think of. Sephiroth enters the scene."

_Where did they get all this crap? And why didn__'t I know it?_

Well, it was likely Arien had known, but she hadn't said a peep about it. Reno thought for a moment, then understood. _This_ was why Rufus had been hell-bent on retrieving the JENOVA sample. What had made Sephiroth into the terror that he had been was not his original genetic material. Like Reno himself, and Arien, and everyone else in the squad, and the Intelligence, and even with Cloud himself, Sephiroth had been irradiated with mako energy, turning his body into silicone-based cells instead of carbon, giving the general inhuman strength, agility, and healing. But there was something else, something else that no matter how long Reno might dunk himself into the mako tank, Reno would never achieve. Despite his high affinity with the radiation. Despite his high dosage.

JENOVA.

Like Genesis Rhapsodos, Sephiroth had alien cells transplanted into him as a foetus. That had changed the unborn infant, molding him, giving him superpowers, the necessary tools to become the famed general that he had been. The titan. The hero. Faster than wind, stronger than rock, and able to heal without even a trace of a scar, Sephiroth had been the perfect soldier. What was even more, for better or for worse, the man had been able to keep his cool in almost all situations.

That is, until he went completely batcrap crazy.

_And then he tried to fuck the world up. So much for Plan Perfection._

Perfection cracked under all the pressure. But flaws, like breathing holes, let the pressure out, kept people's minds intact. Pursuing perfection was a dangerous business, something that Reno had seen in his days as a gang member. Women pursued perfection and were up to their eyebrows in debt, trying to do one cosmetic surgery after another. Men, unable to attain their versions of perfect lives, tried to dream of it in drugs.

"Sephiroth is dead," Cloud announced to the world.

"But what of his spirit?" Rufus countered. "What if he became one with the Lifestream, but coursed through the world without ever dispersing? This is all my imagination, of course."

_Lies. Lies. Liiiiies._

"But we cannot disregard that possibility. To know the truth can lead to the treatment of , we began to investigate Sephiroth's traces. The first place was… do you remember?"

"The Northern Crater!" Reno yelled, simply because he could.

"What do you think there was?" It was almost as if Rufus was watching Cloud react. "Relax. There was nothing there."

_Damn, how many lies is that? Ten? _

Rufus pretty much lied as he breathed; Reno marvelled at the president's lies, convinced that not even Arien - professionally trained to lie through her teeth - could lie this well.

"But something unexpected happened."

Well, that much was true.

"They appeared. Kadaj and his gang. They will come after you. Or perhaps you've had contact already?"

"I'm not involved in this."

"No," Rufus told him. "You, like us, are someone who was deeply involved with Sephiroth. If Kadaj's objective was to prepare for the inevitable moment, there probably is no bigger obstacle than us."

"Preparation…?"

"Sephiroth's resurrection."

"Is that it?"

"And here we arrive at the main topic."

_That was all prologue?!_

"We need your abilities to counter Kadaj and his gang. Won't you lend us a hand, ex-SOLDIER Cloud?"

"You mean, self-styled." There were footsteps, as if someone was turning. Then the door opened. Reno peeked in, saw Cloud in front of the door.

"What did they mean, 'Mother'?" The chocobo head asked.

"Who knows? Did Kadaj say something?" Rufus feigned ignorance like a pro. Unfortunately, Cloud Strife had dealt with Shinra a bit too much to fall for _that_ ruse. Apparently he hadn't noticed the bazillion other lies that popped out of Rufus' mouth, but this one had been a little too blatantly obvious.

"Rufus…" the blond man paused. "What are you hiding?"

If Rufus panicked over the discovery, he didn't show it. "I wouldn't hide something from a comrade fighting with us," said the president, which might have been the biggest lie so far, since Rufus definitely wasn't above stabbing someone in the back, comrade or no, if it suited him. "You want information about Geostigma, no? For the orphans you live with as well."

Something changed, something subtle, something Reno couldn't see.

"Don't you want to get their smiles back?" Rufus pressed.

_No wonder Arien__'s tense around Rufus. They both know they know more than they let it on._

"Our ultimate goal is to rebuild this world, Cloud."

Cloud turned to face Rufus again.

_It__'s working. Damn it's working! Hah you sucker!_

"I-"

"Come on, Cloud. It's to rebuild Shinra!" Reno blurted out. And with that, Cloud shut down again, turning into the brooding chocobo that he always was. So much for cooperation.

"Not interested." And then he pushed the door and walked out. Rude and Rufus cursed Reno's big, blabbing mouth for a second. The door slammed as the two called Reno's name in reprimand, and Rude saw Reno's surprised face a scant second before the door closed.

* * *

Reno was in for a bad day, and apparently the streak of misfortunes hadn't stopped just yet, since he got a call from Arien only an hour later.

"I have bad news," she said.

"Oh c'mon, not you too. I've already had my share of shit for today."

"Strife blew you off?" Arien sounded as if she was slightly amused. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Yeah, well, he can blow me for all I care. He's an asshole who wears a chocobo's ass on his head. "

"Then maybe you don't want your important bits in his mouth," came the sarcastic reply.

"Yeah, yeah, you'd know all about my important bits. What's up?"

"The thing we rescued from the northern plains? That wasn't the entire piece of JENOVA," Arien said, sounding tense. He heard something clicking in the background, something metallic. Arien must not be wearing her pistols. "That's about forty percent of the original specimen that Hojo had."

Reno, who was trying to light the cigarette, dropped the lighter. "Are you fuckin' kiddin' me?!"

"I'm looking at the original specimen's three-dimensional model," Arien said, over the phone. "It's definitely missing about sixty percent of it. I just sent over the file."

Reno sighed, stood up, and walked to the laptop with the tiny lights blinking sleepily. A lukewarm mug of coffee - his mug - sat next to it, forgotten. He tapped on a key, waking it to life, then opened the file that he found on the desktop. The three-dimensional rendering had only a portion of it coloured in with a solid colour, and the rest looked like a wire mesh, spinning slowly on its vertical axis. He clicked, checking it from various angles.

_SPECIMEN 6281-A,_ the top of the screen read. Reno pulled up the details. _Pieces found: 42.15%. DNA match: 100%._

"Have you told Rufus?" He asked, after looking at it from several different angles and seeing the mathematical analysis.

"Not yet. Should I?"

"Hang on. I'll tell him right now." He ended the conversation, glanced at the rotating model again; it was a head without eyeballs or even lips, looking as if it was made of mercury or some other metal. He silently cursed it for a moment, wondering how an alien from the outer space could look so similar to the humans, with two eyes, one protrusion that looked like a nose, and an opening directly below the protrusion that could only be defined as a mouth. Despite the superficial similarities, the DNA alignment match between the JENOVA specimen and the humans was less than fifty percent. Standing up from the rolling chair, he left the room, leaving a stale and cold mug of coffee on the table by the window.

But when Reno did tell him, the response he got was "yes, I know," from the president. Reno stared at him.

"You knew?!"

"Of course I did. Rude, if you will?"

A few minutes later, Rufus, who had apparently lost all interest in appearing mysterious and ill, was sitting in a comfortable chair. "I want you to take a look at this video," he said, pointing the remote at the television screen embedded into the wall. They were in the small room that had been designated as the conference and briefing room. Reno was slumped in the chair, looking annoyed; Rude was sitting straight, as usual; Arien was streaming the video onto her laptop remotely from the Edge.

The clip was grainy, wobbly, as if someone had taken it without a tripod. The terrain was rocky, a basin, and the black rocks glistened, as if it was wet. Reno glanced at Rude, who looked straight ahead, not meeting the redhead's eyes; Reno scowled for a moment, then looked at the screen again. A Wutaian man, medium height, medium build, was on the ground, bleeding from the forehead, his face filled with pain. A pistol came into view, and then the view swung back to the man. Rough breaths echoed out of the speakers. Rude was leaning out of what appeared to be a helicopter, and a woman's voice gasped him to go. And then, three men - or boys? Reno wasn't sure - appeared from the right.

"Um, why aren't they wearing shirts?" The redhead blurted out.

"_That__'s_ your question?!" came the exclamation via the com.

"Well, yeah. Oh. Ohh. Huh. That's a fun trick to have." The three males on the screen had somehow sprouted clothes. "Does that mean they can, you know, magick their clothes off? What about other people's clothes off? Because that'd be pretty badass. Useful."

Rude winced, knowing exactly what Reno was thinking. Rufus coughed. Then one of the males on screen leaned forward. Silver hair fell forward as he leaned in, soft and looking synthetic.

"We're coming for our mother," he sneered, then the screen went black. Reno glared at Rufus Shinra.

"When," he started, "did you go back? And why didn't we know?"

"You were trying a different angle," Rufus said, his voice calm. "Rude decided to try another, and I gave him permission."

"Who's the pilot?" Arien's voice wafted from the speakers. Reno thought for a moment.

"Acid," he replied. "Ace Roskamp. Dual-wielder like you, actually." He paused. "Did you guys get the other piece?"

"They were successful in doing that," said Rufus. "Rescue… not quite. Elena and Tseng are still missing. We need more people. Reno, how's that going?"

"Got in touch with a few. Some can't come back, boss. Rod's busy doing his own work, and it's kinda the same as ours, so I didn't see the point of yankin' him back. Acid'll eat shit if we pay. Galen's off-continent, but he's gonna try to make it here as soon as he can. The ladies are gonna be a bit tricky. Ellen's back at the home estate, and Delara's not pickin' up." Which was a lie. He hadn't called Elena's sister, but Rufus didn't need to know that. If Delara was really needed, he'd call, but he didn't really think Elena would appreciate him tattling to her elder sister that she kept getting into trouble. If anything he had seen between Arien and Reniel was a clue, it was a good idea to leave off the sisterly help until the very last minute.

Rufus thought for a moment. "Get to finding Tseng and Elena as soon as possible. We're undermanned as it is. We need security for Evan Townsend. I want this Geostigma gone." The blond president looked around. "This is my city, and I simply will not allow it."


	48. Party Crasher

Ugh. I am never, ever translating for Sony again. (Bangs head against the wall). I suppose Reno has a worse job, though, than what I had to do. Who knew singers could be that nasty?

Bloodwitch Raven - I always wondered how Reno and Rude ended up on the floor, gasping, while Kadaj just waltzed around. I'm assuming the Turks - being Turks, unprepared, and not Sephiroth - were fairly easily overpowered, so here's my rendition of it. Lots of Reno monologuing to keep himself from passing out. I think Rude came out with less injuries, since he's a bit bigger than his partner.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - I did **not** have fun at the convention. I am never, ever watching Fate/Zero. That's all I'm sayin'. But at least I'm back on track, yo. And I got to watch a lot of Advent Children on my phone while I sat around waiting (and cursing). Fun times. But hey, at least we're nearly done with this fic. The sequel will be my complete original plot.

Back on schedule! I hope.

Chapter 47: Party Crasher

* * *

The sun was slowly setting on the horizon, a soft glow that washed the landscape with an opaque light. Reno got off the phone, tucking it into the trouser pocket. His face was unusually pensive; the usual sneer was gone, his eyes a little tired, making his usually predatory and aggressive expression softer, more tender. It was an expression that made most of the women swoon and fall into a damning spiral of 'only I can save him, he's actually a hurt soul with a tough facade'.

_Except for Arien, _Rude thought vaguely as he watched the redhead strut down the corridor like a cat. _Maybe that__'s why Reno's with her. He never really was the kind to go for the easy kills._

The common misconception that Reno was, in fact, a caring soul who had been so abused by the dark parts of the society that he wore a brittle shell could not be further from the truth. Reno was a bastard, and everyone on the squad knew it. One did not survive being a Turk by being a caring soul. They did try to have a sense of justice, however warped it may be, but when a push came to shove it was fuck justice and my way or the highway, and that was how the Turks had operated before the Meteor Crisis, at least. Before the squad had been reduced to five - and that was after Elena had joined - there had been a sense of easygoing camaraderie and justice, but being reduced down to half the number had been a painful hit. Not to mention the ego. Compound that with the Midgar underworld that had gotten progressively brash until the Meteor Crisis, and Reno had been left without too many recourses.

Not really caring about Rude's concern, Reno threw himself onto a brown and a slightly battered sofa. "So all that's left to do is to look for Chief and Elena," he announced to the empty room as he stretched out. His lanky frame didn't quite fit length-wise. His shoes were scuffed, and Rude could almost imagine Arien trying to battle Reno's shoe abuse and admitting defeat. He moved his head a little. "Any news from the other guys?" he asked.

Rude walked past him. "So far…" he trailed off, walking to the window. Clasping his hands behind his back, Rude looked down at the valley from the space between the blinds. The wind tousled the leaves, shaking the slender branches, a playful companion to the otherwise omnipresent silence. He heard Reno move, but Rude did not turn.

Reno's staunch optimism continued to soldier on, despite Rude's dull voice. "I gotta say," he began, "former employees? There's more of them coming back, more than what I'd thought. Colour me impressed. There's actually a chance we can start over." He sat up, looking at Rude's back, since he was facing the window.

Rude did not turn his head. "Atonement is the survivors' duty," he said, quietly.

"It's already been two years," the redhead flopped back down again. "Hang on. Only two years, I guess. Sure was a nightmare… thanks to us, the world nearly went kablooey. To be honest-"

Rude paused, turned his head a little. Reno's face was almost bitter. Regretful. And Rude wasn't surprised. Just because the Turks were assassins didn't mean they were psychopaths who enjoyed killing. And seeing suffering all around you - especially the suffering of those who were close, those who were dear - wasn't anything Reno particularly enjoyed.

Sometimes, Rude looked back, wondered what he could have done to change the course of the future. And always, the answer had been the same as before: nothing. Someday - not today - Rude wanted to ask whether Reno agreed, but Reno wasn't exactly the kind to dwell upon the past. Look forward and start running seemed to be the redhead's creed. Rude was well aware of just how much Arien meant for the redhead - not because she was sleeping with him, but because she was one of the very few people in the world who let him be and didn't judge him - but even when he had thought her dead, he had just walked on. If Reno had registered remorse and pain, he had never showed it.

Well, except for moments like this. Which told Rude that despite all the crap that he had gone through, Reno was still human. Still with feelings. Still could be hurt.

"-I wonder how much atonement's enough," Reno finished the thought. "We really need Chief back."

"And Elena."

"I really, really, fuckin' hope they're still alive."

It was a hope alright, a hope that was slowly turning into a wish in Reno's mind. Arien's brief psychological analysis of the silver-haired trio - or specifically, the boy - hadn't been favourable. "Psychopathic, underdeveloped, extreme case of narcissistic personality disorder. Basically your bread and butter psycho who thinks he's god's hand of justice," had been her assessment. She had marked the report that she had sent over with a big and red "treat with caution", the font size so big Reno was fairly certain one could see it from the outer space. Since it was highly unlikely that the two would return unharmed, the Turks were banking their hope onto the chance that the monster would take its time torturing and killing Tseng and Elena, so at least that'd give them time to mount a rescue.

"I wouldn't worry," Rude replied, walking back to where Reno was now sitting, sitting down on the sofa. "Tseng's the same as the president… nearly died once. Has devil's luck."

"That's right!" The redhead brightened, flopped back onto the sofa. But something caught Rude's eye, and he sprang out from his seat. Reno, seeing Rude suddenly move, rolled off the sofa and landed on his knees, his hand flying to the baton, but then he remembered that he had left it in his room after Rufus told them to keep weapons to a minimum when a few men had tried to make Rufus into a target practice. The president wanted a comfortable lair and bullet holes in the wall was hardly conducive to living comfortably. And Healin had walls about as thick as construction paper.

_Just my luck._

Black mist was swirling in from around the door. Black mist, malevolent in colour, with a slight purple sheen. It began solidifying as it hit the floor, first the tip of the feet encased in what appeared to be leather, then the boots, then the leather coat, to be finished off with a childish face with a snubby nose and silver hair.

"Oh boy." Reno rolled his eyes. "Not this again."

* * *

Reno and Rude had not been completely unprepared for this fight. Arien had given them the rundown of her own fight with the silver-haired monster on the phone and had sent over the evaluation as a file, although her assessment of the opponent's ability made her conclude that the best plan was to "cut and run".

"Seriously? Run?" Reno had asked.

"Unless you want to come out in a body bag," had been her sour answer. "Just don't fight the thing, Reno. It's a bad, bad idea."

"DeVir, sorry to burst your bubble of pessimism, but we're Turks. We ain't your average Joes. And I don't think we'll be saddled with Mr Baggage."

Arien's answer had been glum. "Unless you got an upped dosage of mako in the past two days, forget it. You'll need to be SOLDIER class first calibre to tackle this problem, Reno. Take my advice, don't go near it. Turn the other way and run when you see it coming down the street."

Well, here he was, and he had nowhere to run.

_My luck cannot get this bad,_ Reno thought to himself as he watched the boy - was it a boy? He wondered - sneer. It was a halfway between a sneer and a smile, a derisive curl of the lips as if the boy was sure of his victory. Well, sure, but that didn't mean Rude and he'll go down without a fight. Unlike Arien, he had no gun on him - he didn't want to risk ricochet if he got in a fight in this small cottage, and he wasn't that savvy with a gun anyway - but this was close-quarter, which he was better at, than squeezing the trigger. Running might have worked for Arien because she had been a pistol-wielder, but it won't work for him.

But the fight didn't go down as he had hoped.

Reno had been in many fights, but they usually went down the same way. There was the circling and all that menacing 'I'm scary' intimidation stage, with an occasional barrage of insults thrown in for a good measure, then someone would move or look at another funny and the fight - in the truest sense - would begin. It was almost ritualistic, how the fight began, as Reno and the opponent took a measure of each other, prowling around in circles like two cats about to get in a fight. But all in all, it was formulaic.

Unless, of course, Reno was absolutely sure he'd win the battle. And then he just went for it.

But not this fight. It was two versus one, but for some reason - and Reno had a good guess why - the boy just came in, full-speed, like a kamikaze, the blade held as if to slash from overhead. Rude simply moved away, a graceful twirl that was rather odd for such a large man, while Reno simply swung his upper body away, sorely wishing for his signature weapon. Considering that he had intercepted Cloud's big-ass blade that clearly _had_ to be compensating for something, he would have had a chance to give this punk some damage. He swung away, then jerked back, narrowly avoiding getting his nose skewered on the tip.

Of course, he had completely forgotten that the stupid punk could apparently move at lightning speed. Or teleport. Not that it mattered when a fist landed somewhere around his shoulder. He had just managed to twist his body away, making the surely lethal blow to the head to something that was a little more manageable. A blunt pain exploded from his shoulder blade, and he had a very nasty _crunch_. Bone wasn't broken but he was fairly certain there was going to be a crack. Great.

He swung a kick as Rude retreated down the corridor, but the stupid git merely blocked it then took off after the bald man. A simple flick of the wrist from the punk kid and the world turned upside down, and Reno found himself on the floor.

_God damn it, what the hell did I do to get this stream of shitty luck? Did I fart in front of a god or something?_

Reno got up, gave a chase. Another kick. The silver-haired boy twirled, his leather coat flaring like a skirt, and then Reno's roundhouse kick got stopped again, this time by the flat of the blade the punk was carrying. For some reason the kid hadn't used the blade on them yet, so clearly he wanted the Turks to be alive, but seriously, seriously hurt. Reno wished Arien was here for a moment, but the thought disappeared when he felt - rather than saw - a foot coming toward his head. He hastily rolled away, getting back onto his feet on the process.

"Gods almighty, you're fuckin' annoyin'," Reno groused as he rolled sideways and launched himself off the floor with a snap of his hips. "What the hell's wrong with you?!"

The boy just cackled, and launched an attack of his own, a punch that sent Reno sprawling into the wooden floor. The kid just grabbed the collar of his shirt, and then bodily threw him.

At Rude, who was standing in front of the door like a good guard that he was.

Reno, despite his slim frame - some might even call him thin - was not exactly lightweight. While he did not have much girth, what he did have was muscles. Consequently, with his weight and the added force of the throw, there was enough momentum for Reno to crash into Rude who crashed into the door. The door burst open. Rude managed to land on his knees and crumple onto the floor, but Reno was not as lucky.

_Okay, this is so. Not. Cool._

His body was screaming in pain, and he couldn't breathe. His rib was broken, he just knew it. Reno gasped, gritted his teeth, and rolled over onto his back, trying to ease the pain as he breathed. He was seeing spots. From the sounds of it, Rude wasn't faring much better; he seemed to be supporting his weight with his arms, stretched out onto the floor. He had managed to not crash onto the floor when they had literally flown into the room, but the bald man didn't look too good. And that fucking punk hadn't even broken out in a sweat. He casually waltzed in after them, paying the two gasping and heaving bodies no mind, and walked straight up to Rufus Shinra, who was sitting by the window. He was wearing that white cloth over his head again.

"I hate lies," the punk kid said.

"I apologise. I'll be honest this time," Rufus lied smoothly. Even amidst the pain, Reno marvelled at Rufus's ability to lie. He almost lied as he breathed. "It appears the thing fell from the helicopter while they were fleeing from. Ridiculous, isn't it?"

The punk kid, who was turned away from Rufus, turned his head. The plasticine hair shook. "Truly?" the kid demanded.

"I swear."

"Fine." The kid produced something from his pocket. "Swear on this, then."

Rufus said nothing as the ID cards of the two missing members of the Turks, splotched in blood, came flying at him. It landed onto the wooden table with a light and a dry noise. "What do you want?" The man in the wheelchair asked, sounding almost as if he was bored.

"We need Mother's power," the kid babbled. "It's absolutely necessary for our Reunion."

Reno heard, rather than felt, the breath come out from between his lips in ragged whisper. He could almost hear the capital _R_ in the kid's speech. _Why the fuck is Rufus just sittin__' there, talkin'? Oww, my rib._

"Reunion?" Rufus reiterated.

"All those who got Mother's cells are going to gather in one place," the silver-haired kid explained, "and we're gonna take revenge on the planet!"

_Great plan, kiddo. Did you ever consider that if the planet goes fwoosh, so would we? Or is he just a dumbass? _Reno silently snarled, trying to keep the pain from occluding his vision and knocking him out. Rude was still struggling some distance away from him.

"The preparations are getting along so far, but, you know, Mr Somebody hid Mother away, so-"

_I__'m getting fuckin' tired of hearing about this 'Mommy'. What the fuck does the kid expect to do, bake cookies with that shrivelled piece of jerky? _Reno gasped out, then struggled to breathe in, trying not to move. It just hurt too much to do anything else.

"Preparations?"

"Geostigma. You know very well, president, don't you?" The kid started pacing. _Clomp clomp_, said the boots. "It's all thanks to Mother's psychogenes doing its work inside the Lifestream. But we don't even know where Mother is."

_Yeah. That shrivelled piece of shit isn__'t what I'd call a loving mummy._

"It's sad, but we can't help it. We're just Remnants, after all. Until we find Mother and have her give us her cells, we can't be whole again."

_Am I hallucinating? I__'ve gotta be hallucinating. This conversation is so totally wacko I'm hearing things._

"Ideation and Geostigma just aren't enough," the kid waxed psychotic. "Not for a true Reunion."

_What the hell is this Reunion thing? With a capital arr?_

"What are you talking about?"

_Finally. Rufus asked a good question!_

"President? You know, don't you?"

And then the kid did something weird. Reno could not see it, but he sensed some motion, a motion that felt as if the silver-haired punk was… kneeling? Kneeling for what?

But finally the pain claimed Reno. He took one last ragged breath, and then the room turned pitch black.


	49. Three Little Mice

Bloodwitch Raven - Weeell, we'll see what happens between Arien and Kadaj. There's a mini-arc I'm considering using (or not using) that showed up in the previous version. I'm not sure how well that'll go through. It's a little contrived.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - I actually haven't an idea how many more chapters I've left... probably between twenty and thirty? But that's six months. I still need to hammer out the ending too, since I'm considering changing it.

Hit a writer's block. I also need to finish a paper. My arm hurts from typing.

Chapter 48: Three Little Mice

* * *

Arien came with a surprising haste. She arrived about an hour and fifteen minutes later, looking tense and a little out of sorts, dressed in jeans and carrying a bag.

"When d'you get here?" Reno asked from where he was. Rude had managed to get up and give the redhead some painkillers, and Reno felt out of sorts. "Did you come to get me? I hope you came to get me. Wow, nice tits."

"He's really, really out, isn't he?" Ignoring the redhead, Arien asked the bald man, who limped to the sofa. "What happened?"

"Kadaj," was Rude's short answer. She blinked.

"Reno got his ass handed over by that child?" She exclaimed. "Didn't I tell you two to get away as soon as possible? That thing isn't even remotely close to human being."

"Easy for you to say," Reno sulked.

"Are you okay?"

Rude shrugged, and jerked his head toward the redhead on the floor, who was now cackling. Arien sighed and knelt beside him. Her hand gently brushed the hair away from Reno's face. His cheek was surprisingly smooth and soft, although she could feel the short bristles of facial hair. If he didn't shave soon, he was going to have a straggly brown beard, something that no one really wanted to see. "You're going to be out of commission for about two days, Reno," she murmured, standing up.

"Where're you goin', Arie?" He purred, with what could only be termed as a 'come here so I can rip your clothes off' look. She ignored it with the mastery of a professional, sidestepping his hand.

"I'm going to get ice." Reno's hand grasped the hem of her jeans, but then he let go, falling asleep. She watched him for a moment, then started to go toward the kitchen. She turned. "Need anything, Rude?"

Rude shook his head. Then looked up. "Question."

"Of course." She stood still, waiting.

"How did you get here so fast?"

Arien smiled. "Rufus called," she said, "about an hour and half ago." Seeing that Rude was done with his questions, she turned and left, her light footsteps _pat pat-_ing across the wooden floorboard. Rude sat, thinking. Rufus had called _before_ Kadaj had beaten the crap out of them. Rufus had known that this would happen, and had summoned the person who could attend to the injuries without calling a physician in. He had known that this would happen.

After Arien came back with a tray of ice, she began cooling Reno's abdomen. She tossed a compress to Rude. He caught it, and began applying it to his arm. The three were silent for a few moments, then Arien spoke.

"When I was driving here," she began, slowly, gently resting her hand on Reno's shoulder as the redhead slept, "I saw a truck."

That, by itself, was nothing remarkable. Rude nodded.

"It had a truckload of kids on it," she continued.

_That_ was odd. Not many people cared about the children that lived quietly in the street corners of the Edge. They scrounged up whatever they could, living off the streets, some thieving but most just slowly withering away in the shadows. Mostly orphans from the terrorism war between Shinra and AVALANCHE, these children, without places to go and without the social support to set them onto normal paths to adulthood, simply died. Adults didn't even notice them anymore. Rude always felt bad for them, while he knew that Reno just felt guilty. He always had an expression that vaguely looked like a kicked puppy when the redhead saw the kids.

It was also odd that Arien had noticed it. Rude hadn't really pegged her as a maternal type.

"Where was it headed?" Rude asked.

"I'm not sure. North."

"Kalm?"

"Doubt it. I'm guessing Bone Village or somewhere nearby."

"What sort of children were they?"

Arien looked at him, confused, but then considered the question. "Orphans, I think," she said. "They weren't dressed well enough to not be orphans. Some were in the later stages of Geostigma, the way their faces looked." Her excellent vision had easily allowed her to see that some had dark smudges on their faces and arms. But more than that, they had the dejected look of someone who was just tired of fighting an uphill battle for one's life.

"Hm."

She furrowed her brows. "You don't think-"

"It's worth investigating. How's the other search?"

"That's the other reason why I'm here. I've triangulated the area down to a mile in radius. I think that's enough for me to go look for them."

"Is that so?" said Rufus from the doorway. The two Turks jerked. Arien jumped, and Rude would have also, if he hadn't been injured. They both saluted on reflex.

"I've tracked down Tseng and Elena's coms from the video," she explained. "I won't bore you with the details, but I'm pretty sure I know where they are."

"If you know where they are, why are they-"

Arien did not wait for Rufus to finish the sentence. "This is at least a two-man job, sir. And unfortunately, Reno won't be able to do much for this particular mission. He's In no shape to trek out to the Northern Crater."

"We need them back as soon as possible, DeVir."

"I am aware of that, sir," said the woman. "From what I understand, Acid is willing to offer us his services as long as we pay. So what I suggest is for Reno and Rude to investigate the orphans, and Acid and me to go to Northern Crater. Thankfully, I've gotten in contact with Acid and he can come at the moment's notice."

Rufus considered Arien's proposal. "Didn't Cloud Strife live with small children?" he asked. "Perhaps we can use the orphans somehow to get Strife to fight for our side."

Rude was well aware that Arien would not like this idea, but she did not even bat an eyelash. "Of course, sir," she said. "We'll leave straight away."

Rude was not looking forward to meeting Cloud Strife again, but there really wasn't anything that could be done about it. Unlike Reno, who didn't really care about Cloud one way or another, it pained Rude to see the blond man. It wasn't about Tifa clearly viewing the Turks as enemies - although an occasional smile would have made Rude's day - but rather, it was Cloud's indifference toward Tifa Lockheart. He had always been diffident, which annoyed his redheaded partner, but to Rude it looked as if Cloud took Tifa for granted.

Even Reno didn't take Arien for granted.

The bald man looked down upon the slumbering redhead, feeling alone. Thirty and single was a bit depressing, now that he could sit still and remember Tifa. He remembered her soft smile, her lustrous raven hair, her mischievous large eyes.

_You chose this,_ Rude told himself. _You chose to have this life. Now suck it up and get a move on. _

Of course, this was no consolation. But at least he had stuff to do to take the mind off the empty bed.

* * *

When Reno woke up from his drug-induced slumber, the pain was gone, and so was Arien. He sat up, feeling slightly groggy. "I swear, I thought I saw Arie," he mumbled. "Where the hell is she?"

Rude, who had been reading a manual while nursing a cup of coffee and trying not to move from the sofa, looked up. "She went with Acid to get Tseng and Elena," he said, monotone.

"Huh. She finally found them?"

"She has a good idea where they are. She's not hundred percent sure."

"Eh. Better than nothing." Reno coughed a bit, and then winced as his ribs protested coughing. "So, what exactly are we gonna do? I swear, if DeVir'd gonna make us sit back and just watch too, I'm gonna be pissed."

Rude personally thought that Reno should know better, but did not voice that particular opinion. It must rankle to just sit back and watch while everyone else ran off and got things done. Reno did not mind the lull of having nothing to do, but he did mind being in the back seat. If there were things to be done, he wanted to be in the middle of it.

"DeVir saw orphans being carted to the north when she came up here."

Reno furrowed his eyebrows, suspicious. "Kids?"

"Yes."

"Maybe we should check it out," said Reno.

"We should." Rude agreed. "How're your ribs?"

"Well done and juicy," Reno quipped, sitting up. It was healing well enough, and his bruises were fading, although he probably won't be running about until at least day after tomorrow. He touched his abdomen from over the shirt, winced a little, but otherwise got onto his feet. "Any idea where to start?"

"Cloud Strife lived with orphans."

Reno, who was gingerly stretching his arms, looked at him. "I smell Rufus all over this."

Rude said nothing.

"He's plannin' something, ain't he?"

Rude still said nothing.

Reno shook his head. "Whatever. Let's get started. We're burning daylight as it is."

But upon visiting Seventh Heaven, Reno and Rufe found out that the place was oddly empty of orphans. Not just any orphans, but those who had geostigma. There were healthy orphans sitting around, looking bored, since most of their friends had disappeared and they simply didn't have enough people to play with. Reno understood that well. Three wasn't nearly as enough to get a good game of tag going as ten.

Reno motioned Rude to stand back - he looked menacing even to the adults - and then bent down in front of a boy sitting against the wall. "Hey, kiddo."

The boy had pale blue eyes. Not the colour of those artificially irradiated, but a healthy, natural blue, the colour of the sea on a sunny day. It didn't glow like the mako addicts' either. His hair, unwashed, was a dark shade of blond, and he had a narrow chin and a straight nose. If life hadn't been so unfair to him, he probably would have been regarded as a handsome kid.

But right now, he had a greasy smudge on the cheek and he looked as if he hadn't eaten properly in a while. That, and he had an attitude that wasn't exactly pleasing, since he scowled, looked up, and said, "whaddya want, mister?"

"What's your name?"

A sullen silence, a glare. But the kid lost the staring match. "Chris," the child replied, his tone sullen and angry. And no wonder, really; the adults had royally messed the world up, and it was the children who were paying for it.

"Thanks, Chris. I'm Reno." It simply wasn't in the bro-code to not tell one's name after asking for it to someone else. And Reno remembered these laws well. He didn't know what to say next, so he just simply looked at the child's thin face. He had always thought his life to suck pretty badly, but at least his childhood hadn't been this starved.

But something about the way the child looked triggered his alertness, made Reno remember something. He had seen this kid before, but not alone; there had been a little girl with the kid. He remembered Chris shielding the small girl from the splashes after the rain. If she was gone, that meant Chris might know where the girl is. "You guys seem to be missing some of your friends. Where're they?" Reno asked.

"Why the fuck d'you care?" the kid snarled back. Reno gave the boy a hard stare, the kind the adults gave to children when the kids got into trouble.

"Watch your mouth, Chris," Reno reminded him. "Potty mouth won't get you anywhere. Trust me, I know. Alright, lemme rephrase that question. Where's your sister?"

The boy's eyes widened, filling with tears, and his lips trembled. "She went away," he whispered, suddenly looking like a vulnerable child again. "The silver-haired guy took her away. I said I wanted to go, but the silver-haired dude said no. "

_This is sounding surreal,_ Reno thought to himself, but did not show it. "What did the silver-haired guy look like?" he asked, trying to sound considerate but without sounding excessively worried. "Did he say why you can't go?"

The boy looked at his hands. His nails were filthy. "'Cause I don't have the geo- geo-"

"Geostigma?" Reno supplied.

"Yeah. That."

Reno didn't like this. It stank of something bad, he just knew it. But he needed to get the kids inside, somewhere safe, because he just had a gut feeling that the silver-haired shovelheads were going to move soon. Like, tomorrow soon. "Tell you what," said the redhead, "can you go and ask the other two in the street to come over here?"

"Why?" the boy asked, suspicious. Good. Suspicion kept one alive when trust didn't these days, and a healthy dose of 'what the hell does this guy want from me' prevented children from getting sold to only Holy knew where to suck on genitals for the rest of their lives. The world was a sordid place.

"I'm gonna give you guys something to keep a roof over your heads for the night. But I'd rather do it quick, before some idiot comes along."

Chris thought about it for a moment, then nodded, and ran off. He came back with two others in tow, one girl and one boy. The children looked at the man with fear and doubt in their eyes. Reno pulled out a wallet, fishing out a folded wad of bills. He counted them, then divided them up into three.

"Here's the deal," he said. "I'm gonna give you guys this money. Uh uh," he jerked his hand away when the other boy tried to snatch it away from him, "you guys gotta promise me first."

"What?" asked the girl.

"First off, tell me your names."

"Tilly," said the girl.

"Kef," said the boy.

"Good. Alright. I'll give you the money, but you gotta promise me this: you're gonna go to Jerry's. Know Jerry's?" Jerry's was a small restaurant nearby that also had beds for rental. The food wasn't that good, but it would do. Jerry also ran an illicit gunsmithing business catering only to the old customers, such as himself. Arien was good friends with him; after all, Arien entrusted Jerry with her pistols and no one else. Three heads bobbed eagerly.

"You're gonna take the money, and you're gonna go to Jerry's, and you're gonna stay there. Don't go outside. If Jerry asks, tell him Reno sent you guys. Okay?"

Heads bobbed again.

"Alright. Off you go, then."

Reno watched as the three kids ran off. Rude came up to him and watched, arms crossed. "Surprising," Rude muttered.

"Eh?"

"Didn't expect it from you."

"Oh, that." The redhead scratched his head. "Look, I thought my life was pretty shitty, ya know?" He began to walk toward Seventh Heaven, which was just down the street. "But I had a family. Roof over my head. Food on the table. These kids don't even have that, and those pieces of shit are trying to use the kids for something that I don't wanna think about. And it's kinda my fault, ya know? I can't do much, but the least I can do is at least keep them dry for a night or two."

"Jerry?"

"Couldn't think of anyone else."

Rude nodded. They were in front of Seventh Heaven, the door looking a little battered, the steps worn down by the frequent customers. It was daytime, so there won't be as many customers around, but to Rude's ears it was awfully, eerily quiet. The little tavern sounded dead, as if the masters had left. Reno, oblivious to Rude's wariness, tried the door.

"Locked. Huh." He knocked on the door. No response. Tried the door again. It was still locked. Oh well. "Tifa!" Reno shouted, but the voice was swallowed into the humdrum and nobody answered. Without prompt, the redhead pulled out a bent pin from his belt, knelt down, and began wiggling the pin around in the keyhole.

Where was Tifa?

The lock was simple to pick, and it took Reno less than half a minute to get it unlocked. Twisting the doorknob, the redhead went in first, his steps light and cautious. "Helllooo?" He sounded as if he was yodelling. "Anyone home?"

Silence.

The two Turks checked the rooms, but it was empty. Tifa was living with two children - not her own, clearly - but those two kids were gone as well. The bed looked made but there were flowers in the vase. Rude looked at it. If Tifa had moved out, this place wouldn't look so… occupied. It wouldn't feel as if she had just stepped out to run some errands. But the little girl - Marlene was her name - and the boy weren't here either. So where were they?

"They're not here," Reno announced. Rude nodded.

"Where to next?"

"The church," Rude answered. He had overheard Tifa mentioning it once. Not to him, of course, but to someone else, over the phone. "Strife might be there. He might know something."

Reno said nothing, but simply nodded. Rude was worried, very worried, but Reno had bigger fish to fry. For the first time in his life, he cared about the kids. The three kids. Chris, Tilly, and Kef. He could not help hoping that the three kids had listened to him, and hadn't squandered the money, or worse, had been robbed of it. Because the last thing he needed was to see the kids disappear, or see the small bodies turning still and cold in the street. He had enough crap on his conscience. He didn't need more.

_You__'re turning soft,_ said an evil voice in his head. He ignored it as he walked out, knowing that five years ago, he wouldn't have cared about the three children. But he did now, and he wasn't going to apologise for it.


	50. Rescues

The FFVII cast is steadily starting to join in. I'm hoping that Reno is making a transition from the heartless killer to what we see in ACC for you guys. All in all, he's still kind of a jackass, but hopefully he's a little less killer and more puckish rogue. Not that this will stop Cloud from busting the proverbial cap in him.

Bloodwitch Raven - It's really difficult to reconcile a murdering character with his own conscience, and Reno does have a conscience. I wonder what he actually does to assuage all the guilt he must be collecting. Yoga, perhaps, a la Grand Theft Auto? That'll be the day.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - Poor Tseng... he's always getting rescued by Acid. I suppose Roderick's too busy. These rescues always remind me of the time when my friend (using two guns as a character) went to save characters with girls' names, only to discover that they were all rod. He hates that character.

Nearly 50 chapters! Whew.

Chapter 49: Rescues

* * *

Acid came right away. "Half the payment, up front," he began as soon as he settled down into the sofa. "The rest when the assign-"

"It's already been wired," she said promptly. "Do you need any equipment?"

Shaking his head, Acid observed the woman. He hadn't met this woman properly before, but he could trust that she was a Turk, alright. She carried herself that way, ready for action, and alert, but without the confidence that the SOLDIER Class 1st had, the certainty of victory. Her shoes were polished, her tie straight, her shirt ironed and her black jacket snappy and well-groomed. She was, all in all, like a female version of Tseng. Which gave him a weird image of Reno making out with Tseng. Slightly disturbed with the picture, he took his eyes off from the woman.

Acid was aware of this woman's relationship with the redhead. The former Turks had kept in touch with each other, partly because braving dangerous situations together made friends where no one else would've expected, but also as a precaution. People still held grudges against them, and despite the company now being defunct, there were still kill orders out for the ex-Turks. If one went down, the news would spread, so the others could go into hiding. The current team was also trying to get former Shinra employees back, and that included the former members of the Intelligence and the investigation sector.

Once a Turk, always a Turk, or so they said.

_Well, he sure as hell didn__'t pick her for her smiles,_ Acid thought to himself. Her eyes - bluish grey, the colour of polished metal - were sharp, focused, and without mirth, and her mouth looked as if it would have a struggle curving upwards. She was tall, thin, and had the upright posture that spoke of the years in the military or the academy that went with it. And her hair was straight as a board. He looked at the print-out in his hand, a topological map of the area they were going to look in, and the faces of the two targets they were looking for. Tseng had let his hair down, and Elena still looked like her sister, with the blonde hair and the round face. He didn't really need any other details, although the page was chock-filled with small type font. This woman must be really into details and planning. He wondered for a moment how Reno got along with her.

"I'm ready," Acid said.

The flight to the north was silent. Arien was the pilot of the chopper, and she needed all the concentration she could afford to guide the helicopter, and Acid didn't really have anything to talk about with her. Consequently the only noise was the occasional buzz of the com and the _lub lub lub_ of the helicopter, a few beeps here and there.

Of course, that all changed when they actually landed and started looking for the pair.

After five minutes of doing absolutely nothing but wandering around and trying to find clues of Tseng and Elena's whereabouts, Arien was beginning to reconsider the difficulty of this task. She had gone on a manhunt before, but it had been in the city, not this desolate, forsaken hole of depression. For one thing, the terrain was uneven, and walking wasn't easy; for another, there were shadows dancing everywhere in odd angles that she wasn't used to, and she was having a hard time paying attention to everything. It didn't help that the general theme colour of the landscape was metallic grey and black. She really wished she had thermal sensors, but if either of them had been dead for more than a day, that wasn't going to work.

"Look there," said Acid, breaking Arien's concentration, "blood."

She squinted. It was blood all-right, and copious amounts of it too, dried and crusted to maroon. She pursed her lips, and bent down, touching it. The blood was dry, but did not flake away, as she had expected for it to do. There was a trail of it, as if someone had bled while getting dragged away. It was a general track of smear, and she wasn't sure where it ended, or if there was more than one bleeding creature getting dragged away, for that matter.

"Is it Tseng's?" Acid asked.

"I'm not sure. Probably." _Unless those silver-haired kids keep a zoo of tortured creatures._ Why they hadn't been swarmed with those silver-haired lunatics was a mystery, a puzzle that she decided not to dwell upon. Whatever the reason, the faster they got Tseng and Elena and got the hell out of there, the better.

Acid bent down as well, looking for clues. He was no tracker, but sometimes a chipped divot in the rocky wall, a piece of cloth here, a hair there, would give clues as to just who had been dragged away. The ground looked wet but was surprisingly dry, and the smell of ozone and metal lingered like a ghost. It was an unfamiliar smell. Was it a natural smell? He wasn't too sure.

"Anything?" Arien asked after a few minutes.

"Nothing."

"We might as well follow the trail, then," she said, standing up. "We-" She whirled, whipping out her pistol and training it in the general direction of where she felt an alien presence, then froze.

A man stood there. A tall man, clad in crimson, with burning eyes that appeared as if he had just come straight from hell, long, shaggy hair whipping in the wind, feet encased in gold, one arm ending in golden claws. He had his firearm out, shaped like a pistol but far too large to actually qualify as a pistol. Hell, it was even bigger than Rude's Desert Eagle. Arien backed away, her Sig still trained on the man. Compared to this man's gun her pistol was a freaking peashooter, but it was better than nothing. Right?

The man took a look at the two Turks - well, one Turk and one ex-Turk - and then sheathed his pistol. Despite their body language that screamed 'tense and ready to fight', they really weren't in their calibre. Besides, the woman reminded him of someone. Someone he knew, from long ago. Someone who hadn't surfaced in his consciousness for years. Who…?

"Myers DeVir," Vincent Valentine breathed. The woman looked like Myers. Odd coincidence? But he didn't believe in coincidences. So what gives?

Sure enough, it was no coincidence, for the woman flinched. She made no further reaction, but that flinch was enough; she knew Myers in some capacity. Tension ran thick in the air, so thick that he felt he could cut it with his claw. The woman was radiating tension, as if every nerve fibre was firing to excess.

"You knew my father?" she asked, her gun unwavering.

Vincent nodded. "Long ago," he added. "Longer than I care to remember." It had been when he was still human. Could still waver. Could still have mundane thoughts. When he could still love, and be loved in return. "You're Myers' daughter? And lower your gun." He put his own away. "I won't hurt you, unless you give me a reason to."

The woman hesitated, but then put the gun away in a smooth, fluid motion. The man behind her - probably a former Turk, since he still had the trademark mien and the moves, but they seemed to be mixed with something else - did not, and moved forward as if to attack, but then probably reconsidered, for he put his own weapon away.

"Do you know what happened here?" the woman said, pointing at the bloody streak.

Vincent did not immediately answer. "You're a Turk," he said instead.

The woman nodded; the man did not. "I am," she confirmed. Her voice was low, lower in register than Tifa, Aeris, or Yuffie, but then again, she was a tall woman. The man gave away no indication as to his affiliation with the investigation sector, and neither did the woman.

"You're looking for Tseng and Elena," said Vincent.

The woman's eyes widened ever so slightly, and her pupils dilated, but all she did was nod again. "We are," she said. "Do you know where they are? Do you know what happened here?"

Vincent Valentine simply nodded. "Come," he said. "I'll take you to them."

* * *

Next stop for the redhead and the baldhead was the dilapidated church. Because neither could think of any place where Cloud would hide out in. The man loved beating himself up with a whip and sulking, so naturally they automatically thought of the little church that could. Strife was predictable, and his entire self-identity was based on guilt. So where would he go to feel the most guilty? Why, the church where the pink Cetra had tended to, of course.

The trek into the belly of the ruined Midgar was not exactly a pleasant experience for either of them, and they remained mute, each reminiscing and remembering. Both Reno and Rude had visited the church before, when they had been watching the Cetra. They both knew of Tseng's affections for the girl, and they both knew how she had died, or at least they could guess. It was the great mystery of the world that scum like the Turks survived over and over again, and those that were pure and deserved to live didn't make it, like the Cetra, and the kids in the street. It had been too late for Tseng to bemoan about his feelings when Aeris had died; it wasn't like he was at any freedom to do so anyway. But the small wound in his heart hadn't healed yet, and Reno knew it. The man was still watching his past with one eye, looking at the future with the other.

_No rest for the wicked_, a wise man had said. Perhaps that was because everyone had to live with all the crap they had done. But was it so bad to have a life, wallowing in the filth, if one only had one chance to live?

Besides, what was good and what was bad? One man's evil was another man's good faith.

The wind blew, the fetid air turning into something cleaner, purer, with a scent of dry dust, faith, and flowers as they descended down to the slums where the church was. Maybe Aeris' world had been filled with sunshine, but for the Turks, it was too late. They were stained, and no amount of light would redeem them. Tseng knew it.

But walking into the church, remembering the girl's smile, made Reno feel… stained.

The flowers still grew, white and yellow ones, like large lilies, filling the air with the powdery, almost bitter scent that almost overwhelmed the redhead. It wasn't unpleasant, though. Nobody in the squad knew what the flowers were, but in the place where no life existed, sucked out from the earth and used to fuel the wanton city, the fact that anything grew was nothing short of the miracle. And it almost felt as if Aeris was still here, and had merely stepped out to do an errand. The sun shone in brightly, the light turning orange as it bade goodnight for the day, staining the ground with myriad of jewel tones through the stained glass windows. It was quiet.

Then Rude tapped him on the shoulder. Reno looked at his partner, but then Rude pointed. Reno squinted, then saw what Rude was trying to get him to see. He was pointing at the place where the floorboards had been ripped away, giving way to the cluster of flowers. The place was jarringly green against the otherwise grey and brown interior of the church. Something had happened here - very recently, from the lack of dust settling upon the debris - that had ended with petals everywhere, torn away from the flowers, and broken pews. A fight, perhaps?

Wary, Reno and Rude made their way around the broken furniture and walked toward the makeshift flowerbed. The footsteps, despite their best efforts to keep it silent, echoed. Rude got to the flowerbed first.

In the middle of the flowers, using the plants as a bed, were Tifa and Cloud, their bodies curled around each other like ying and yang. Both Reno and Rude stared at the scene for a second.

The first thought that had popped into Reno's head was that these two had a go at making babies and had a wild time that resulted in broken furniture and petals everywhere, and then had fallen asleep. But common sense dictated that these two sleep parallel to each other, not curled up like they were. Besides, it would have made more sense if both had been naked, and from the looks of it (and to Reno's slight disappointment), they hadn't gotten naked recently. Either that, or they had a go at it while being dressed, and then had dressed themselves and then fell asleep, but how likely was that? Besides, the damage done to the church had been a bit too extensive to credit it to a wild tussle. Unless the two had been fighting that had ended in make-up sex. But Cloud wasn't the type to lose his temper and have a grappling fight with a girl. He was more of the type to get yelled at, and then go to a corner and sulk. Ugh.

Rude gestured to Reno. _Shall we carry them back?_ The gesture asked.

Reno considered this proposition for a moment. On one hand, he wasn't that keen on helping his royal chocobo ass out. On the other, Cloud was into debts and all that stuff, and it might be worthwhile to save him so he can call in on the favour later. And Rufus would like that. Oh yes he would, yes indeedy.

Reno nodded.

And since he was such a nice guy, he offered to carry Cloud despite his still sore ribs, because he figured that Rude might want some intimate time with Tifa Lockheart. However, Rude shook his head no.

"What? Why the hell not?"

"I don't trust myself" was the answer.

"Eh?"

Rude just shook his head.

Reno didn't quite get it - it was a likely situation that if Arien had been the one passed out here, he'd go and grab her breasts or something, then she'd wake up and kick his privates or something - but shrugged. Besides, his ribs would be grateful for the lighter load. He shrugged, then eased the woman onto his shoulder, firefighter style, and began to make his way back to the vehicle. If Tifa didn't like it, she could walk there.

Rude followed, feeling a little envious. Reno had gone after the woman he had wanted, had been free to do so, and had gotten her. Arien had put up a good fight, but their relationship was about as stable as one could expect from a relationship between the two Turks. His relationship with Chelsea had been, at best, based on interests other than companionship, at least on Chelsea's side. And Tifa, well… Tifa would never accept him.

They managed to load two comatose bodies onto the back of the vehicle, and then drove back to the Edge. They certainly weren't going to take them to Healin, and Reno could just imagine Arien's displeasure in finding Cloud and Tifa in her home. Arien was territorial, and she disliked intruders, especially when she didn't know the intruders very well. Seventh Heaven was still empty, and Reno had to pick the lock to get back in. The stairwell up to the bedrooms was narrow and Rude had difficulty manoeuvring as he carried Cloud up the stairs. The sun was casting its last rays of the golden light, turning the checkered red coverlet on the bed into a darker orange.

Reno and Rude waited by the door, and Cloud woke up first.

"Man, you're heavy," Reno quipped.

Before Reno ran his mouth off, Rude went ahead with the task at hand. "You were living with children, right?" he asked.

Reno wasn't discouraged by Rude's effort. "It's empty."

Aaaaaand all Cloud did was look down like a scolded five year old. Reno was getting irritated. That, and he wanted to have a smoke. Go home. Eat. Sleep. And this chocobo's ass was preventing it from happening by looking down and wasting his time.

"Are you fine with it?" Rude asked.

"I-" Cloud looked at the comatose form of Tifa on the bed. And then clammed up. And just stood there, doing nothing, making no decision, as if he was waiting for some godsend to come and rescue him from this mess. Well, Reno knew trouble - some might say that Reno WAS trouble - and for all he knew, there was no godsend, and the longer it took to come to a decision, the bigger the damage was. The best method to tackling any problem was to get as much information as one could, then make swift decisions, and _get moving._

Chocobo head annoyed him.

"Man, you're really annoying," the redhead groused, then turned to leave. Rude followed, and the door slammed shut.


	51. Guilt of the Past

Owing to my bookcase finally calling it quits, I missed the update last week. Here it is. A bit longer than usual too.

Bloodwitch Raven - I always imagined Reno and Rude going "let's not get involved in this fight, this can get sticky". I never really found Reno to be the type to go rooting for Cloud anyway, and he seems to be the type to run away from this kind of mess.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - Arien's penultimate rookie for the Turks, both former and current, but since Arien's been longer at being a Turk by now (probably... not 100% sure), she's sometimes confused on how to treat Acid. So professionally distant it is.

50 chapters! WHOOO!

Chapter 50: Guilt of the Past

* * *

Arien and Acid followed the red-clad man, wary but without any other recourse. Up and down they went, trekking through the rocky terrain that looked as if it had been hewn out by a giant's hands. The footholds were precarious, some wobbly and some simply wet and slippery, and it was slow going.

Vincent walked, pensive. So Myers' daughter - or daughters? Last he heard, Myers had twins - was all grown up, an agent in her own right. She was a tall woman, not outrageously tall but still tall nonetheless, with an angular chin and silvery blue eyes framed by dark, sooty lashes. Myers had never brought his wife in, but Vincent could guess that Eliane must have been a very beautiful woman to produce a daughter with such features. The man had picked family and personal life over career, letting go of the possibility to join the Investigation Sector without much fuss. At first Vincent had wondered why, but he knew now; Myers had not wanted to involve his wife and his daughters in the life of murder and lies. He had wanted to keep his family pristine.

But somehow, his daughter had ended up here, clad in the dark suit. The suit was pressed, the tie straight, but the woman wore it without any pride. There was no sense of achievement in the way she wore the suit, but there was a sense of resolve, as if she was resigned to wearing it.

Odd.

They walked for about five minutes, winding this way and that, in total silence. Then Vincent made a sharp left, and Arien nearly crashed into the wall, and Acid into Arien as they both tried to pivot on the mossy rock they had been standing on. Arien nearly slipped and fell, and Acid's hand shot out to steady her. She nodded thanks then ducked into what appeared to be a tiny rocky alcove.

A bloody hand print was on the ground. More blood, as if there had been a struggle, and then there was a piece of black cloth, torn away, its ragged edges showing the fibres. Arien matched the colour with her own jacket, then nodded. It was the same colour. Nearby was a smashed-up phone, its screen dark and a spidery web of cracks in the glass. She opened the case, checking the serial. It was Tseng's.

Tseng or Elena had been here.

"Where could they have gone?" Acid asked. Arien shrugged. There was no way to know now, with the phone left behind. For all they knew, Tseng and Elena could be anywhere. Or dead.

"What now?"

"I-" she stopped as the red-clad male jerked his head. "Yes?"

"If you are looking for Tseng and Elena," said the man, "I saw them in the Forgotten City."

"The Forgotten City?" The woman repeated. "Why…?"

"No point wondering why," Acid pointed out. "Let's get there then think about it."

Arien nodded, turned. "Will you come with us?" she asked, her tone polite. "If you require compensation-"

Vincent shook his head. Began walking.

The trek back to the helicopter had been short, and Acid took to the air as soon as the door slammed shut. The flight south to the Forgotten City was silent. Arien was checking medical supplies, Acid had nothing to talk about, and as for Vincent, he was brooding, wondering if Myers' daughter had chosen this path. Probably not. Acid landed where VIncent dictated, and then they were off, marching through the silvery forest of the dead trees and even deader architectures. It was Arien and Acid's first time in the Forgotten City, and if she had been allowed, Arien would have marvelled at the slender branches bowing from above, the silvery motes falling, the unearthly white beauty of the place. But she really had no time to stop and bask in its ethereal landscape.

Vincent finally led them to a little grove, protected by the tall trees and hidden away from the plain view. "Here," he said, his word short. There lay two bodies, or what might have passed as bodies, if they hadn't been so mangled. Blood seeped out onto the stone floor, a pale pink puddle that had dried into an even paler burgundy; a male and a female, both horribly mutilated. Arien knelt down, her hand touching the forehead of one of the bodies that jerked under her touch but then quieted down.

"Fever," she said, looking up at Acid. "We need to get them back to Healin. Now."

"I thought we were pathogen-resistant."

"We are. That's why they aren't dead yet." She stood up. "Let's get them loaded into the helicopter. Elena's not looking too good." The blonde woman had bandages wound around her head, but it was done crudely, without technique. Acid nodded. The woman snapped a green sphere into a bracelet she was wearing, but then turned. "Thank you," she said, her voice soft. "I think you've saved them, Mr-"

"Valentine," said Vincent. "Vincent Valentine."

He had not expected these youngsters to know him, but evidently they did, for their eyes widened. "Vincent Valentine?" said the male. "As in, _the_ Vincent Valentine?"

"I am not sure what you have heard, but that is my name."

"I'm Arien," said the woman. "Arien DeVir. You knew my father, I think."

He nodded.

"I'm Acid." No surname was provided. Vincent didn't particularly care either. These people were transitory in his life, and it wasn't worth noticing minor details.

But Myers' daughter… that one was interesting. Like father, like daughter, or so they said, and he could see the familiarities between them; the way she jerked her head, the way she squinted a little, pursing her lips, her wide, brusque gait. Her eyes, so focused and determined, the way she drew her mouth in a line. It was so reminiscent of his coworker and his friend that for a moment Vincent almost saw Myers standing there, checking the scene out with him, making assessments and planning what to do next. Myers had been a good friend, an observant spy, and a good rival. He wished nothing less than happiness for him. Acid had left, probably to get equipment and supplies.

"How is your father?" Vincent asked. He had meant the question in innocence, but Arien froze.

"He died," she said shortly, not facing him. Her voice was soft, sounding hollow against the stones. Water dripped with an almost inaudible _splatter_, a steady metronome as if it was keeping the two bodies' heartbeats steady.

"Oh." Vincent did not know what to say next, so all he managed was, "I'm sorry."

The woman made no response, merely continued to get the two bodies ready for transport, kneeling down and checking the bandages. Silence became almost awkward, but then, Arien asked, "what was my father like?"

Vincent blinked. "He never…?"

"We weren't close, after I went to the Academy," she whispered. "And before that… he never told me anything about what he did. And now he's gone." Tseng stirred, moaning, and Arien touched his forehead. A green glow, not unlike the Lifestream itself, emanated from the palm of her hand, the hue warm and vivid. "I never really knew my father, I guess."

Vincent stood over her, watching as she checked the wounds. "He was… dedicated," Vincent started. "A careful man. A quiet man." He wasn't sure what else to say. Myers had loved Eliane dearly, and this woman bore Eliane's similarities and her marks without realising it, perhaps; the gait, the gaze were her father's, but the way she touched the injured, the way she did not meet his eyes as she asked the question, had been Eliane through and through. Perhaps Myers had pushed the young woman away because it had simply pained him to watch the daughter his beloved wife had left behind.

It would have pained Vincent to see a young girl with a bit of him and a bit of Lucrecia, so he wouldn't be surprised if that had been the case.

They had been young. Incredibly young, so filled with dreams, hopes and ambitions. The world had been their oyster back then, the company just growing and growing, every venture successful. But gods disliked arrogance, and so had punished them all with a stern hand, breaking cities, destroying continents, and giving an excruciating fate to the mankind. Vincent did not know where Jane Whistler was, but it was likely she was just as dead as Myers was. And he was left alive, again, alone. He had lost friends, but somehow knowing that Myers was gone hurt even more so than any other.

But this woman…

"How did they get here?" she asked.

"I do not know. They were brought here… by silver-haired creatures." Vincent looked around warily. "I think they have a hideout here."

"Fancy that," she murmured as she did a quick check of the wounds. None appeared to be life-threatening, but most would be inflicting intense pain to Tseng. Elena was completely passed out, which might have been a blessing. Arien knew that the Ancients had once lived here, the benevolent creatures who had been long gone. To think that the epitomes of malevolence now hided out here was irony, if nothing else. She looked around as well, saw Acid coming back.

"Hey," she said. "Any danger?"

"No, but I did see a truck filled with kids. This isn't a place to take a field trip." He lowered the stretcher that he had carried from the helicopter. It was a big one, designed to carry multiple people, if necessary.

"Kids?"

"Yeah. Dozens."

"Where was it?" Arien asked. Acid looked at her, saw her face filled with tension. "Is it far from here?"

"Nah. You can see it on the way to the chopper. They can't see us though. It's about midway from here?"

"Can you load Tseng and Elena onto the stretcher? I'm going to take a look." Without waiting for a reply, Arien left, pulling out her pistol. Acid waited, feeling uncomfortable with this legendary Turk. He considered making light conversation, but Vincent Valentine had turned away, discouraging small talk.

Silence it is.

She came back a few minutes later, breathless. "We need to leave," she ordered, her tone almost waspish. "Now."

Neither man asked why. Acid merely nodded, and got ready to pick up one end of the stretcher. Arien got behind, picked up the other end. "Thank you," she said as they got ready to leave. "For everything."

Vincent nodded.

And then they were gone. A few minutes later, the sound of motor whirring reached Vincent's ears, letting him now that the two Turks had reached the helicopter without a hitch. As the aircraft took to the sky, Vincent looked up, seeing the helicopter get swallowed by the blue. Wondering, wondering what would have happened if something had gone differently, when everyone had been young.

* * *

Reno and Rude had spent the good part of the afternoon looking for the missing children, and came up with nothing.

If this had been Arien, she might have been better off. She was, after all, extremely good at sniffing around, ferreting out information that people desperately wanted to keep quiet. Besides, she had connections, people that she could muster and call onto when it came to stuff like this. But Arien was coming back from the north, hopefully with Tseng and Elena in tow, and so it fell to the redhead and the baldhead to look for the kids.

Reno wasn't quite sure what he was doing. Looking for kids was _not_ part of his job description. He kind of wished Rude's little pet was around, but Rude didn't mention the girl and Arien had the girl's phone number, so that was a no-go. The sun had already bade its farewell for the night, washing the city in a pallid hue that reminded him of his childhood ghosts.

"Rude," said the redhead, "let's go back, man."

Rude did not respond. He wasn't sure if he had done everything that he could; oh, logically, he understood that perfectly well, but heart and mind were two different things, something that all Turks knew very well.

Reno waited for his friend and partner to make his decision. Rude was slower than Reno when it came to things like this; unlike him, the bald man tried to consider all angles before arriving to a conclusion. Reno considered a few options that were most likely, but he didn't have any particular algorithm to decide which was the most likely; when asked, all he had said was 'just a hunch' with a shrug of a shoulder. Of course, those hunches usually turned out to be right, even uncannily so, but still, Rude took his time.

And Reno would wait.

Rude nodded, a few minutes later. And began walking. Reno followed, hurrying to fall in step beside him. They walked for a few minutes in silence, back to the Edge. Then Rude spoke.

"What about the kids?"

"Huh? What about them?" Reno was feeling around for his cigarettes, but stopped and looked at him. "What?"

"The kids," Rude repeated patiently.

"Yeah, okay, got that. Which kids?"

"The three kids we met."

Reno tried to recall, then suddenly remembered. "Oh!" he exclaimed. "What about them?"

"Maybe they know something."

Reno considered this point. Rude opened the door on the driver side of the car. "Maybe," he finally decided. "They're supposed to be at Jerry's. Wanna stop by?"

Rude did not respond, but turned on the ignition. Reno slid into the passenger seat, and slammed the door shut. The night was coming in earnest as Rude pulled out from the parking space and onto the emptying street. The wind was soft against Reno's cheek, blowing away the humidity. He eased back, throwing his arms behind his head. There were people walking, but Reno suddenly felt alone. The city was continuing to grow, its face evolving from a young face of a child to the uncaring face of an adult, turning a blind eye to everything.

_Everything changes_, he thought, but that thought didn't comfort him. If everything changed, would Rude disappear from his life someday? Arien? Would he be alone? Would he end up fighting his battles by himself, with nothing but memories to defend himself?

He remembered his childhood as he closed his eyes, filled with dreams of the sun, rainbows, and stars in the night. _I__'d forgotten_, he thought. The city had killed the essence of these things in him, and with it, he had said farewell to his childhood, sometime, long time ago, without him realising it.

But he could save some other kid's childhood from going to the dumps.

The vehicle bounced on the rough road, jostling the occupants inside, and finally stopped in front of a fairly dilapidated building. But still, warm light streamed out of the windows, and people's laughter was audible from the inside, above the steady hum of people's conversations and the clink of utensils. Reno went in first, letting Rude find somewhere to park, and pushed the door open. Warm air, filled with the scent of oil and tomatoes hit Reno's nose, cruder than Arien's creations but still food that would give people the comfort of a full belly. All the way in the back was Jerry, standing behind a counter, busily working. "Hey, just grab a seat and- oh, it's you."

"Hey to you too," Reno said, leaning onto the counter. "Did three kids come by? A girl and two boys? Kinda dirty and scrawny? Probably paid in cash?"

Jerry's face clearly said 'what the hell are you planning'. "Why do you wanna know?" he asked back. "What do the kids mean to you, huh? You aren't a kids person, Reno, and don't start denying it, 'cause you aren't."

"Yeah, yeah," Reno said. He noticed Rude coming in, but did not turn. "I sent those kids here."

"Yeah, right."

"I'm fuckin' serious, man. Go and ask 'em."

Jerry looked dubious, but shrugged, put the kitchen knife down - it was a big, honking knife and Reno felt a little uneasy - and went into the back. Reno waited, drumming his fingers against the counter, tapping out a rhythm to the tune in his head.

"But I don't know how," Reno hummed. "Ease my mind…"

Clock ticked, and people's voices faded to the background as Reno hummed, remembering his childhood with melancholy. Everyone had a childhood, filled with sunshine and ice cream and spring breeze. But as they grew up, the Turks especially, they had forgotten, had forgotten it all, concentrating on the now in the city. Maybe, if something had gone differently…

He shook his head. No point regretting now. What was done was done, and he couldn't turn back the time. All he could do was focus on the now, on what to do next, which was to-

"Sorry, Ren," Jerry's voice interrupted his thoughts. "The kids said you gave them money to come here. Quite honestly, didn't think you cared. What's up?"

"Can I talk- hold on." He saw Rude gesture. Next to him was the- oh, that annoying twit. He sighed, and walked over. "What?" he almost snarled at his best friend. "I was in the middle of-"

"You're looking for Denzel and Marlene, aren't you?" the girl chirped, waving her hands like they were wings. Just her energy was enough to make him feel as if he was getting irradiated. He decided not to answer, but Rude nodded instead.

"I saw Denzel," said the girl.

"Denzel?" Reno was puzzled.

"The kid who lived with Tifa and Cloud? Well only Tifa now, but Cloud used to live there too," the girl prattled. "I think he has the sooty. Anyway, he was on this truck with a bunch of other kids, and I asked one of the kids where they were going, but the kid said they didn't know, but-"

Reno stopped the girl's chatter with an upraised hand. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, and he fished it out, gestured Rude to listen to whatever the girl had to say, then stepped outside. "Reno," he said after hitting the button. "What's up?"

"Are you still looking for the kids?" came Arien's breathless voice, barely above a whisper. Why was she whispering?

"Yeah, why?"

"I think I found them," she said. "Forgotten City."

"Why the fuck are they all the way up there?" Reno swore.

"I think it's their base," came the reply.

"What about Tseng and Elena?"

"We found them," Arien said.

"Where the hell are you?"

"Forgotten City," said the woman. "Bunch of children. Same truck. It has to be the one I told you this morning."

"Thanks," Reno murmured. Before he could say goodbye, Arien was gone. He slid the phone back into the pocket, and went back inside. Rude was still talking with the girl, but he acknowledged Reno's presence again with a slight nod of the head.

_Found target,_ he gestured. _Return to contact now?_

Another nod. Reno immediately turned and left, not waiting for Rude to finish the conversation. Or he at least tried to, as Rude said goodbye to the twit and came outside. Rude took his sweet time, and by the time the bald man came out, Reno was already onto his second cigarette.

"You took your sweet time," he grumbled as Rude climbed into the seat.

Rude did not answer.

The door into Seventh Heaven was open when they came back. Without a sound the two climbed up the stairs and nearly walked into what appeared to be Tifa and Cloud fighting. Or more like Cloud being the emo that he was and Tifa being Tifa. So Tifa was awake. Huh.

"Family, or friend, or anyone-"

Reno glanced at Rude, who looked away. Oh well. Time to go in. Reno simply stepped in, but if the two noticed, they didn't react. The continued the discussion. Reno listened, baffled. He had never been in this situation; he had always been in the driver's seat, and Arien had always followed. And she had absolutely no problems with it. Maybe this pair was the reverse. But he couldn't quite understand how Cloud could live with it. Chocobo Head must be really submissive. Or something.

"Really, all you do is drag drag drag-"

"Just how long are you gonna drag it around?" Reno interjected without considering the possible consequences of interrupting.

Tifa was immediately alert. "Did you find them?" she demanded.

"They took them. We had witness."

"Where?" She leaned forward.

"The Forgotten City," Rude answered. "It's their base."

"Please," Cloud said, not looking at anyone, staring at the floor. Please what, Reno had no idea. "I'm going to go talk to Rufus."

Tifa would have none of that. "Don't run away! I know, even if you do find the kids, you might not be able to do anything," Tifa's voice chased after Cloud. Rude began yanking on Reno's sleeve to leave, and Reno was gesturing to go. Reno always had been a gossip, but intervening this sort of argument was just asking for trouble. He could almost smell it. "Maybe something'll happen that can't be undone. That's what you're afraid of, aren't you? But please, you have to accept what's going on right now, right this second! It's a burden? Of course it's going to be a burden. We all have to deal with it, except those who can live lives alone. You don't want to be alone, do you? You don't answer your phone, but you always have it on you!"

Ouch. Tifa really could lash out with her tongue. But then again, so could Arien. And Elena. Maybe this was just a woman thing. Well, there was only one thing left to be said, so Reno said it.

"You can go to the hideout." Emphasis on the you. Then Reno walked out, and Rude followed, and the door slammed shut behind them.


	52. Intuitions and Superstitions

I am just not having a good groove writing this scene from the film. I don't think I know if the pacing's right or not, since this particular part's chock-filled with rapid action. But that's for this Friday. Thankfully, now I know what'll happen in the next few chapters... it's nearly the end. And then fun ideas for story III... (that means don't leave after I say THE END on this fic.)

Bloodwitch Raven - To me, Reno and Rude very rarely have true "oh shit" faces. They have their game faces, their normal faces, and and then "oh my god I'm gonna die" faces, but the last one I think we've only ever seen it in _On the Way to a Smile_ when they thought they were going to die during the Meteor Crisis. So I gave this scene my spin.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - Poor Tseng and Elena... they're thrown right back into action. Rufus needs all hands on deck for the coming few days, and possibly the next few years. The two weren't as fast as Reno and Rude were, so I guess they aren't in their top-notch shape.

If anyone's interested in the song Reno is humming in this chapter, it's Stevie Wonder's _Superstition_.

Chapter 51: Intuitions and Superstitions

* * *

Reno came back to Healin that evening exhausted and quite frankly ready to crawl into bed and not come out for a week. Looking for kids was one thing, but having to deal with a chirpy teenage girl, then stand in the middle of an ongoing talk-to from Tifa Lockheart, wasn't exactly his idea of his job. He barely managed to get out of his clothes before crashing. Forget nightwear. He was wearing underwear, wasn't he?

Of course, his bed had a previous occupant. Who groaned, cussed him out, and then mumbled an apology when she saw who had disturbed her sleep. "Oh," she said, yawning, "it's you."

"Wow, aren't you a happy girl," Reno retorted. "What's up with you?"

"Tseng and Elena's back. Oh, and I had another attack." She pondered for a bit. "Hey, that rhymes."

"Back, as in back back?"

"Back, as in Acid and I brought them back, and then I spent a good part of the afternoon casting healing magic on them. They're almost healed."

Reno frowned. "That can't be safe."

"It wasn't. Rufus' orders, though." She yawned again. Rapid, repetitive application of healing magic was discouraged in general, mainly because minute adjustments were needed for many things to heal properly that required fine control. Making the body go under cell regrowth that quickly could cause replication errors as well. Arien had her doubts when she had used the materia, but Rufus had been glaring at her and it was rather clear that for Rufus, the possibility of Tseng and Elena up and kicking around far outweighed Tseng and Elena becoming maimed or having horrible, uncontrollable growths. "Can I go back to sleep now?" She grumbled. She wasn't good with sleep interruptions, and she was very, very grouchy in the mornings. Reno had made it a habit to keep out of her way before she had her morning coffee. Waking her up again would probably end up with a bullet hole in his privates. Dark, soft hair fell onto the pillow as she rolled over toward him, her eyelashes fluttering, her breaths soft. Reno watched her sleep for a bit, felt assured that she was back asleep.

Then Reno fell asleep as well, and for the night it had been peaceful. Tseng and Elena slept through the night, Rufus did not have an attack, and Rude was a peaceful sleeper, if a very, very light one.

But if Reno expected the next day to be peaceful, he was dead wrong.

The morning started off with Reno accidentally walking in on Elena hobbling her way down to the bathroom. The blonde woman promptly screamed - whether for propriety since she was in nothing but a tank top and shorts, because Reno was just a lecher, or psychological trauma, no one ever got to know - but she did scream bloody murder, waking everyone up. Arien came storming out, her hair a rumpled mess, her eyes sleepy, and fiery vengeance etched onto her face. Reno winced, feeling the oncoming tornado.

"Why do you people hate sleep!" she shouted. "What the hell is _wrong_ with you?!"

Reno pointed at Elena, who blushed and fled. Arien stomped down the corridor, her slippered feet going _slap, slap, slap_ against the wooden floor as she stormed into the bathroom to wash her face and take a shower. She came out, fifteen minutes later, wearing nothing but a towel. Reno, who was sitting on the bed, trying to not move and get lost in the cigarette smoke, turned.

"Nice view," he said, his tone dry.

Arien did not react as she whipped her towel off and began to get dressed. Her dark hair fell forward, limp and wet, as she wrapped the towel around her hair and slid into a pair of panties, the dark grey lace of the waistband making her flesh look milky white with just a hint of pink. He exhaled, a white cloud obscuring his vision for a moment before clearing. She pulled out a pair of wide-legged trousers and a tank top that was so vividly blue Reno squinted for a moment. Then she pulled out another tank top that was so loose it looked as if it will fall off her shoulder. She slid into the trousers, then yanked the tighter tank top over her head, then pulled on the looser one over the blue. Arien's fashion sense borderlined teenage rebellion, but with her angular chin and her thin nose and her straight hair, she just managed to not look rebellious but rather put together. The general theme of her body was lanky, and so she very rarely wore fluffy skirts. The straight lines and the angles of her attire made her look even taller and thinner, but also gave her a feline look that he found enticing.

"I am so tired," she complained as she whipped the towel off her head and began to put her hair up in a ponytail. The wet hair slapped against her breast, making straight, wet marks on the white fabric of her shirt.

"Same shit, different day." Reno tapped the ash into the ashtray, then squished the cigarette. "Why do I get the feeling I'm gonna be kicking and punching and screaming today?"

She shrugged, then stretched. "Intuition? Yours do tend to hit the mark, though."

"Great," Reno grumbled, flopping onto his back. "Very superstitious," he hummed to the ceiling, "writings on the wall." He sat back up. "Why does awful shit keep happening to us? Did I cuss out a god or somethin'? Break a mirror?"

"So it's _your_ fault?"

The redhead thought about it for a bit. "Haven't broken any mirrors," he recalled.

"Walked under ladders? Stepped on cracks?"

"Oh hell, how the fuck would I remember that?" He groaned. "Maybe."

"You are so, so, jinxed out." Arien laughed, then sat by his head, on the bed. He felt long fingers latch onto his shoulder, then groaned as her hands kneaded the hard muscles. "Oh, oh god," he moaned. "That is so good."

"You sound like you're about to come," she laughed again, continuing to ease the tension out of his body, bit by bit, flesh by flesh.

"It feels that good," Reno murmured. "Well, kinda opposite… ooh, right there." Arien fell silent as she concentrated on a particularly stubborn muscle just below his neck. "Ow. Oww. Oh, right there."

"What's the opposite?" She asked as she gestured for him to roll over.

"Well, when I'm about to come, I'm all tense and…" he began chuckling into the cover when he heard Arien sigh. He felt her straddle him as her hand continued to work on the back muscles, making him feel like a puddle of jelly. "Actually, I feel like I just came. Sorta." He now understood that sexual element of a massage; Arien would be even more pliant after a massage. Maybe he should try it. She'd be defenceless and powerless, a puddle of soft pleasure ready to be taken and devoured.

"Your silence disturbs me," came the sharp voice. She really knew him too well. "What're you thinking about?"

Telling her that he was considering using massage as a sexual foreplay was pretty much a guarantee she'd never let him do it. So he fibbed. "Just my hunch," he said as he rolled over again, letting her work on his legs as he moved up on the bed so his entire length would be on it. "About luck."

"Worried?" She began working on the other thigh. Unlike his other body parts, his thighs were larger, with far more defined outlines of the muscles. A few minutes of silence, and then she made him roll over onto his back. He finally spoke.

"Well, nah. Not worried. Just, ya know, tense."

"I know _that_," came the soft giggle. "Down, boy," he heard her say, and he realised that he must have been aroused. She probably knew what sort of thoughts had been caterwauling through his head. And she had made no mention of it. Did this mean she was open to the idea, or just oblivious?

"I am not fucking you this morning," Reno said in retaliation. "It'll probably start with a bullet crashing through the wall."

Her hand traced the particular scar that he had gotten from when he had been shot, the night they had first slept together. "It did spice the night up, or so you said later on, if I recall correctly," she retorted. "Seriously. Are you nervous?"

He licked his lips. He just had a bad feeling about today. But saying it out loud wouldn't help. So he kept his silence. She continued down the leg, then finally patted his leg, signalling that she was finished. He sat up, feeling suppler, his movements more fluid. They sat in silence, Reno with his legs dangling from the bed, Arien with her legs thrown out in front of her on the duvet.

"Hey, we've survived," Arien said suddenly. Reno looked behind him, at her. "We might have the cesspit of luck, but we haven't fallen through the bottom. Don't worry." She stood up. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"I don't want breakfast."

"Well, if your intuition's right and you're going to be kicking and screaming, then you're going to need some food." She winked. "C'mon. If you're right, you're going to be in for a long day."

* * *

Reno ate breakfast - along with everyone else - and then Rufus told Reno and Rude to head out into the city. Which was just making the bad omen feeling worse for the redhead. No one else seemed to be feeling it, but he felt all the hair on the nape of the neck stand up.

Yeeech.

"Errr, why?" Reno asked, uncharacteristically. Rufus raised an eyebrow, but Reno very rarely asked the why, so Rufus let this indiscretion slide. If he asked why, then he probably had a very good reason, and it wouldn't hurt to indulge the redhead.

"Just go," Rufus said. "Call it an intuition. Something's going to happen in the town, very soon."

"And you'd know that because…"

"Kadaj called," Rufus explained in as few words as possible. Reno frowned, as if he didn't like it, but that wasn't any of the redhead's concerns, so Rufus ignored it. "So I will be going, as well as Tseng. We'll take the helicopter."

Arrgh. That word again. He really, really must have jinxed himself somewhere. Did he shit in a god's temple? Piss off a black cat? Did a bird fly in the window? Did a dog howl last night? "The helicopter?" Reno echoed.

"The one Acid and DeVir brought back yesterday," Rufus reminded them. "Rude, you'll be flying." No if's or buts allowed. Reno said nothing, and Rude, as usual, said nothing. Arien saw them to the door. "Don't take your guns out in the street unless it's empty," she warned. "You two aren't that good at shooting, and if something _does _happen, there'll be people going everywhere." She leaned onto the doorframe, and Reno, in the morning light, saw just how wan and thin Arien looked. She had always been a thin woman, but it was clear that geostigma was taking its toll.

_I need to start rebuilding my goddamn life,_ Reno thought, _and I can__'t do that when we're trying to scramble to save the now. Damn it._

But he didn't say it. He nodded, grinning. "Don't sleep on the table," he called as he walked down the path to the helipad. The song continued to whirl around in his head as Rude started the engine; Tseng helped Rufus in, and then came in himself, slamming the door shut. For a man who had been on the verge of death the day before, Tseng appeared to be… alarmingly hale. Either something was wrong or Arien's control on healing was finer than Reno had thought.

As Rude took to the air, Reno sank further into the seat, propped his knees up against the dashboard, and rolled the window down. It was a grey kind of a day, the sky cloudy, the wind clammy and cold against his cheek. Tseng and Rufus were talking behind them, inaudible with the _lub lub lub_ of the spinning blades and the wind.

"Thirteen month old baby," Reno sang to the wind as he clasped his hands behind his head, using his hand and arms as a makeshift pillow. "Broke the lookin' glass-"

"What's the song's name?" Rude asked.

"'Superstition'. Funny thing, I have this weird feeling that I'll be yellin' and screamin' today. A lot. Lotsa runnin' 'round, ya know? I told that to Arie, and she says that I'd better eat up, since my hunches are usually true. What the hell." He hummed the next phrase, then told the wind that when people believed in things they didn't understand, people suffered.

Rude said nothing. Rude agreed with Arien's assessment - that Reno's 'hunches' were uncannily accurate, but only when it was bad, like an animalistic instinct that made all the rats flee a sinking ship - but he didn't say it to his friend. Instead, he sang along, because maybe singing would ward the bad luck. It wouldn't hurt.

When they did descend down to the outskirts of the city, they hid the flying vehicle, watching people move differently from what they knew. Rufus said that he needed to go somewhere to meet one of the silver-haired thingies. Something to be discussed, the blond president said. Tseng was to park himself somewhere and wait for the signal after escorting Rufus to his destination, whatever the signal was. And so the four dispersed, Rude and Reno in one direction, Tseng and Rufus in the other. Rude saw Tseng make a call - or at least, it looked like he was calling someone - but they were by then too far away for even Rude to eavesdrop. No matter.

Reno and Rude walked, their gaits rapid. Something was odd with the town. Usually, most people walked in every direction, each with their own destinations and their own intents and purposes; but today, they all seemed to be walking to-

"The town centre?" Reno asked his buddy. "Are they throwin' a party or somethin'?"

Rude doubted it. "Let's go," he said.

They found out soon enough that it wasn't a party as they neared the town centre, since all of a sudden there were screams and people started running _toward_ them. Reno stood, amazed and more than dumbfounded. "What the hell?" he asked to no one, pulling his baton out.

Rude kept on walking.

Reno followed, caught up, and they walked down one of the narrow alleys that led to the monument that had just gone up; there were big alleys and small alleys, sprouting like spokes of a wheel from the centre of the town. People were still running, every which way, screaming, chaotic, some falling over nothing in their panic. Women with children inert and unmoving in their arms, men protecting their wives…

And amidst the chaos, were the two silver figures. And black wolf-looking thingies running around, apparently eating people. Or chewing people. Whatever the things were doing, all of a sudden the victims started to have a black cloud of vapour rising from their bodies. There was a crawling woman, sobbing, trying desperately to claw her way away from the thing. The thing slammed its paw into her back, making her hit her jaw. Blood trickled out from her mouth. She must have bitten her tongue. And then…

_Oh fuck me. My hunch got right. Just my luck._

They were pulling on something.

They were pulling on… the monument? Why?

Reno decided to ask. "Whatcha doin'?" he drawled as he ambled up to them.

"Huh?" said the one that sort of looked as if its ancient ancestor, if it had any, had accidentally mated with a gorilla. Reno felt a crick in the neck and slapped his baton into his neck lightly a few times.

"Mother's here, no?" the thin one that looked like a girl asked.

_That__'s it. I'm calling you Sissy from now on, and the other one I'm calling Gorilla._

But what was up with their mummy issues? Did they really expect that JENOVA was a maternal being? She was never, ever going to bake cookies with these morons or take them to the zoo or feed them ice cream. Either they were crazy, or they were completely batshit crazy. Either way, he found this 'Mummy' obsession get a little out of hand. They couldn't be less than twenty years old, and they were moaning and whining that their mummy was lost. Boohoo.

"What makes you say that?" Rude asked without betraying even a hint of emotion.

"This… ya know… this monument?" Gorilla up-talked as if he wasn't quite sure if the thing behind him was a monument or a large teddy bear. Was he retarded? "Shinra made it."

Reno was feeling mean.

"Oh hey, you guys used your brains!" He congratulated them.

"But you're wrong," Rude added.

"We don't know either."

They laughed.

Which pissed the silver-haired duos off. Or something.

"What, no trust in us?" Sissy mocked.

_Nobody_ fucked with the Turks. _Nobody_ made light of the Turks. That slight was not something that could easily be let go. They would have to do something about it, or go home with their proverbial tails between their legs.

Which was so not gonna happen.

Reno's face turned savage, but he looked at Rude, just to make sure. Rude looked away, as if refusing to make a decision. Alright then. Time for some kicking and punching and screaming.

With a cry, Reno made an overhand downward blow.


	53. Fight in the Street

Suddenly there was a bahamut crouching on the monument.

Reno, who was going to bring the rod down in a wide swing, stopped, staring at the big monster which was daintily perched onto the monument like a hummingbird on an aspen branch. Rude, who had not managed to stop in time, had the misfortune to get his face solidly whacked by the rod. He grunted, going down. The bald man got to his feet soon enough, only to see Reno staring, wide-eyed, at the monster. It chewed on a chain, tearing it with a squawk.

"This is…"

"Impossible," Rude finished.

Reno stopped his motion for a split second, then spun on his heel, his rod swinging in a wide arc again and nearly hitting Rude in the face, then took off. At a somewhat leisurely speed. Rude followed, and then Sissy and Gorilla took off as well, making a rather comical chase that would have been hilarious if Reno himself hadn't been involved. But Reno found himself preoccupied, and Rude didn't find the situation particularly funny.

For one thing, Reno - for a reason that Rude couldn't really figure out - had decided to rescue the kids. Or a kid, since he could not carry more than one.

The kid was heavier than he had expected, but it was not something he could not manage. Rude, who was far stronger than he was, was managing two kids at once.

And then the kid stuck his fingers up his nose.

He wanted to scream at the kid, because it hurt. He didn't have a very large nose, and while that usually worked for his looks, this time it worked against him. But he bore the pain and dashed away, running for his life, because that bahamut was a heaping mount of trouble, and not necessarily something he wanted to fight against.

Which had been a good thing, in retrospect. Since there was a gigantic monster practically breathing down his neck, and Gorilla, who apparently had decided to stalk him, suddenly came jumping down. Reno slid away, Rude dashed after him, and the bahamut, apparently bored with the entire slapstick comedy, decided to take to the air and belch out a big honking ball of energy. The magnificent wings unfurled and beat, leveraging the monster higher into the air and causing dust to rise from the ground.

Not that Reno or Rude cared.

"Is it comin'?" Reno yelled at Rude, who was slightly ahead of him. The redhead sped up, overtaking Rude. The kid was about as responsive as a pillow, which was disturbing, since the blond child had enough tenacity to stick a tiny hand up Reno's face.

"I don't want to see!" Rude yelled back. He was carrying two children, but he somehow managed to get ahead of the Turks' fastest for a few seconds.

And then the bahamut belched out the ball.

It was more like a tidal wave of wind, heat, and dust, rather than a ball of energy. The monument splintered into smithereens, peppering everyone with metal scrap pieces and debris. Reno yelled as he launched himself forward, trying to avoid the worst as the energy turned into heat and things began to burn. The Turks crashed onto the ground, and a scorching wave of wind overcame the two.

Elena got off the phone and looked to her left, where her coworker and a friend, if a little distant, sat, looking out the window. It was calm and quiet in Healin, but it was looking to be a little iffy in the Edge. Tseng's voice had been strained, even tense, but he had refused to divulge the details, leaving Elena to guess and come to no conclusion at all. It was, all in all, a tense moment for the young Turk, and she wondered how Arien could be so calm. Never did she know that Arien could appear to be so calm simply because she had lived in fear for a good amount of time now. When one lived in perpetual fear, added fear left significantly less impact upon the face than getting it with a nice side dish called shock.

"Tseng called," she said.

The woman, who had been as still as a statue, got up. "Now?"

"Now."

Three minutes later, the helicopter was taking to the air, the blades spinning faster and faster. "I'll stay behind," Arien said as she flipped on the switches. "We need to hurry."

The flight was short, but for Elena, longer than it should have been. Tseng did not elaborate why the two women were needed, and she expected the worst; was Tseng injured again? Pinned under a beam, perhaps? Or?

Arien, who was in the pilot's seat, seemed less concerned about Tseng. "Did Tseng say what was going on?" she asked as she gently moved the steering stick to the left.

"No."

"Hm." Arien looked concerned. "Try calling Rude," she said. "Maybe he'll pick up."

Elena dialled, but no one picked up. After four rings, it went to voicemail.

"Voicemail," she reported.

Arien frowned this time. "Try Reno," she said after a moment of thought. "As much as I doubt that he'd pick up, if Rude didn't." The two were usually together, and although she found the rumour ridiculous, she was aware that there had been quiet whispers within the Shinra HQ that Reno and Rude were, in fact, secretly gay and in love with each other. When she had offhandedly told Reno about that rumour, he had spat out the coffee and had choked on it. He had coughed until she pounded on his back a few times. Some people had wild imagination.

"Voicemail," Elena said, after ending the call.

Arien's frown deepened. "We'd better hurry."

It took about forty-five minutes to reach the outskirts of the Edge, and then Elena took off, hurrying to get to the building where Tseng and Rufus were. Arien remained behind, hiding the helicopter in one of the warehouses. The roof had been turned into a makeshift helipad, and there was no outer access. The actual warehouse was one of the Turks' workshops and hideouts, and there were tools lying around, cables, and a PC monitoring station set up in the corner. She sat down, and blinked.

The Turks had a few cameras installed in strategic points of the city some time before, after coming to the conclusion that constant monitoring couldn't hurt. And now, up on the screens, were chaos and pandemonium. People were running to and fro, every which way but definitely away from something, screaming, falling down, some even crawling. It was a scene that was reminiscent of a panic movie. And there, in the corner of one of the screens, was…

Arien sat there, doing nothing. There was nothing she could do, but wait. So she waited, watching, her eyes the colour of dark steel, her mouth drawn in a taut line. It was the stillness before a storm on her face, but she knew, instinctively, that sooner or later she'd be called to action. So she waited, like a predator, waiting on its prey.

Most people, when caught in a big shockwave of energy, generally tend to pass out from the stress and the shock.

Reno was no exception.

He came to, groggy, disoriented, and with no child in his arms. That alarmed him for a moment, but he saw the kids walking away from him, and decided that there really wasn't anything else he could do about it. The kids wanted to leave, and the best thing was to let them leave. Besides, he had other concerns.

There were burning debris everywhere, but the streets had quited down. He wasn't quite sure how long he had been out. Rude was also stirring, his bald head miraculously without scratches or injuries. The rod scraped against the asphalt, making a hollow noise as Reno got up. Rude was following suit.

And then Sissy and Gorilla loomed over them. Reno glanced at Rude.

"Isn't this fun, guys?" Sissy said. Reno was a little surprised that Sissy could make noise other than sniffs, but he didn't let it show. He was pissed off, and he was going to give the two silver-haired brats a world of pain, even if it killed him.

"No… fuckin'… way!"

Anyone less than those with silver hair would have been knocked out by the next kick. Reno wasn't sure what was going to happen, but he went for it anyway, following it up with a swing of his baton. He swung the baton again, pissed off. He really, really didn't like the condescending tone of these punks. Another kick, but the Sissy - who apparently had excellent reflexes - dodged again. He ran in, kicking upwards, but Sissy caught it in his hand, swiping it away.

Then Sissy came in for his offence, kicking - which Reno backstepped and dodged - and then another kick, which caught him cleanly in the abdomen. He felt himself flying through the air, falling onto his back and sliding a good measure backwards. Somehow, the rushing stampede of people trying to get away from this mess didn't trample all over him, and his jacket didn't end up like holey cheese. He flipped upward onto his feet, then rushed in, getting even angrier by the minute.

"You guys are like fuckin' bad pennies!" He shouted, swinging his baton again, but Sissy somehow managed to leap into the air - backwards - and land on top of a building. Was the fucking thing a Spiderman or something? Did he wear abseiling lines?

Not really caring about Reno's concern for the apparent defiance of the laws of physics, Sissy landed, gracefully, with elegance, on the roof. The long black coat fell with a _flap_ about his ankles like a dress.

"Like I said," said Sissy, "if you guys give Mother back to us, it'll be all over."

_Ugh. What is UP with these guys and their mums?_

The condescending tone of Sissy did absolutely nothing to calm Reno down. Blood rushed to his head, almost blinding him; he grimaced, ran to the base of the building Sissy-pants was standing on, and then managed to amaze himself by scaling up the wall. Maybe something in the air turned folks into Spidermen. Or something. He leapt into the air as he reached the top, coming down with yet another swing of a baton, but Sissy simply stepped away. Blood was thrumming in his ears, not the familiar rush of danger, but that of anger. It was the kind of anger that Arien would have called a bull rush, and in a calmer situation he would have known that this was a losing formula. But he was too hotheaded. He hated being mocked, and especially by a punk like this. The fact that he hadn't made a hit so far also infuriated him.

_Today fucking sucks. It__'s official._

Another swing sideways, a kick, then another swing, all too wild to land. He really regretted not being able to use firearms, but with any luck he'd shoot, Sissy would step away, and then the stray bullet would hit a kid on the street or something, which wasn't exactly something he wanted. He swung again, trying to avoid kicking on the precarious foothold. His swing was blocked, but his roundhouse kick managed to hit Sissy's head. Sorta. Lightly. But it was still a hit.

_Score one for Reno! _Reno thought. "This 'Reunion' shit," he jeered, "are you guys fuckin' serious?" Another swing, but the idiot ducked. He spun on his heel and used his elbow to carry through the motion as he tried to hit the bastard again, but the damn thing ducked yet again.

"We just want to see our Mother," Sissy said as if he was lecturing.

And then Sissy-pants kicked him in the face.

Reno had his bad moments, but this had to count amongst the top three. It was very rare for anyone to land a hit on Reno, especially in the face; usually, people were too slow, or he was too nimble, or he was just too dirty in a fight for someone to make a hit. So it doubly humiliated him to get kicked in the face, and to go flying in the air a full few yards.

That, and it hurt. His nose was in for a bad day.

He also fell on Rude, who fell down. He accidentally stepped onto Rude's sunglasses as he got up, but he didn't pay much attention to it, since Rude usually had spares lying around. He never knew that Rude started this practice after learning his lessons being around Hurricane Reno and having many victim sunglasses. He was far too busy dusting himself off, although from the looks of it, Arien was going to yell at him for the state of his uniform anyway. The dust patches smeared, but didn't come off.

And come to think of it, he was far more averse to the idea of Arien yelling at him than Sissy-pants fighting him. Sissy-pants he could beat up and not feel anything about it; beating his girlfriend, who not only fed him and gave him sex but also was really quick to reach for her gun, was something else. This entire situation was irritating him to the maximum, and so he decided to switch tactics, and let his mouth run off with its own ideas.

"You keep sayin' mummy this, mummy that," Reno said as he continued to dust off, "but c'mon, it's only JENOVA's head, man."

It wasn't really his best insult, but usually his mediocre insults drove people to rage, and this was no exception. Predictably, the two punkheads got angry.

"Don't call Mother that!" Sissy-pants snarled.

"We won't forgive that!" cried Gorilla-head.

_Not only do they want their mummy__'s tits, they have the insults of a three year old._

"My apologies," Rude said, pulling out another pair of sunglasses and sliding them on. His tone was neutral, but it screamed that he was just baiting.

"You're right," Reno added, glancing at his bald partner. Despite all the dirt smudges, his pocket square was still pristine, as was his tie. What the hell? "Hang on a sec… why the fuck are we sayin' sorry?!"

Reno leapt into the air with a yell just as Sissy did as well; Rude landed a hit on Gorilla, who was too distracted with the two leaping figures above his head to properly pay attention to Rude's fist coming his way. Reno spun in the air, using the momentum of his leg poised ready to kick out.

The moment came in clarity, a moment of cosmos in an otherwise chaotic world. One moment of singularity, and then his foot lashed out, hitting Sissy-pants squarely in the chest.

It was the best kick of the year so far.

Reno landed on his feet in a crouch. _Damn, that felt good,_ he thought, giving his buddy a cheery laugh and a thumbs up.

Which apparently was the equivalent of beating one's chest, since Gorilla's punch hit him a moment later.

The two Turks flew through the air again, and landed on the asphalt. Reno could feel his nose bleeding. His nose was really in for a beat-up today. As he crawled to his feet, his body hurting but not ready to give in, he stood, back to back with Rude. They needed a new strategy and more people, pronto, but with those two lunatics chasing after them this wasn't going to be a good option.

_Now what?_

Reno saw a foot coming at him and ducked. There was a bahamut still doing wahtever it wanted in the air, but two Turks against that monster was a battle that Reno wasn't going to do anytime soon. He might be stupid, but he wasn't suicidal. He blocked the other two kicks, hopped away from the third, and spun on his heel. He was beginning to understand Arien's almost obsessive appreciation with keeping distance; both he and Rude were close-quarter, but Arien wasn't, and he was beginning to understand just why Arien had managed to survive the encounters with these yahoos. He danced away again, gaining focus as the anger subsided like a wave. This wasn't a fight he would be expecting to win; this was a fight that he was expecting to survive.


	54. Falling and Chasing

I'm moving, and my room's a mess, so the update's not going to be as regular as it had been for the next few weeks. Not that it had been that regular... but writing to the scenario's not really my thing anymore, evidently.

Bloodwitch Raven - I get really distracted writing Reno fighting, because he's too fast to follow. I had to slow down the animation quite a bit to get a blow-by-blow sequence. For someone not enhanced with JENOVA, Reno is really, really fast, something I didn't appreciate until well, now. I now firmly believe that he's not really normal human.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - I kind of wish we got more montage with Reno and Rude in it, or at least Tseng and Elena, because we don't know what was going on behind the scenes (who was piloting the chopper? When did Rude make the bombs? When did he attach the fireworks?). It's a lot of guesswork. One thing I noticed while pausing the film was that Reno can look damn scary sometimes.

A week late... again. This is NOT my best chapter.

Chapter 53: Falling and Chasing

* * *

Dodge, dodge, dodge. Reno was vaguely aware of a bunch of people - some with familiar faces - fighting above his head, in the sky, hopping this way and that, but he couldn't really pay attention to it with Sissy-pants coming after him like a jealous girlfriend. Actually, Sissy kind of looked like a girl, especially with the black coat that looked like a dress. Rude was apparently having a handful behind him with the Gorilla boy trying to pummel him into wine or something.

"God-damn it," he shouted. "What the fuck do you want?"

"Mother," said Sissy-pants.

"Yeah, well, I sure as hell don't have it!" Reno yelped, then ducked just in time for Sissy's foot to swing harmlessly above him. "What the-"

It was an animal instinct, rather than anything else, that had allowed Reno to hastily make a getaway as a huge body came raining down from the sky, turning into a huge glob of blue energy along the way. The energy began to dissipate, but still managed to do plenty of harm to the structures being constructed, and there was a deafening clang after clang as beams fell onto the ground. Reno threw himself onto the ground, then rolled away as a metal beam came crashing down. Everyone stopped for a moment as they watched the structures under construction fall.

Then something sparked above Reno's head.

Reno looked up. Rude looked up, and so did Sissy and Gorilla and everyone else in the street. The top of the building caught fire, as if it was sprouting orange hair, tufts of orange flame dancing in the wind. And falling from what appeared to be the building like an errant tear or a drop of snot, was-

"Prez!" Reno and Rude shouted together.

Rufus somehow maintained a smile. A victorious smile, as it were, as if he was sure of his win. Well, Rufus did have many aces to fire into the hole, so to speak, and usually an exit plan or two. The question was whether Rufus had an exit plan for someone else. That was unlikely. He shot the double barrel shotgun with one hand as the black box that Rufus had kept JENOVA in fell. Turd three came falling after him, in an odd display of obedience to gravity.

Rufus pulled the trigger again, then again, the sharp percussive sounds slicing into the whistling winds about his ears. There was an odd-sounding clang, and Reno knew that something had hit the box. Why was Rufus trying to destroy the box now? He had no idea, and apparently, neither did Rude. Everyone just watched as the box, the president, and the silver-haired kid fell from fifteen floors above. Rufus' white coat billowed in the wind, and then the kid went ahead of the president, his hand reaching for the box.

Rufus' exit strategy turned out to be Elena and Tseng - where the hell did they come from? - running along the ledges and the roofs of the buildings. They had what appeared to be grappling hooks attached to pistol nozzles, and they shot in unison, Elena in in a double grip, Tseng with one hand. The bandage around Tseng's head was stark, but it appeared that the bleeding had stopped long ago.

Rufus fell through the air, wind rushing about him, and then the two nets shot by Elena and Tseng crossed, catching Rufus in the middle with a soft _thump_. The silver-haired kid, on the other hand, had managed to grab hold of the box and land on his feet.

Reno backed into Rude in alert, who stumbled. Sissy-pants and Gorilla stood by, ready to move and watching. And the snub-nosed kid, on the other hand…

Ran to the motorcycle parked nearby, hopped onto it, and sped away. The other two scrambled, following suit. Reno called to Rufus, who was trying to get down from his hummock. The three motorcycles fled the scene, with Cloud hot on their heels. People were jumping out of the way in alarm and surprise. Rufus managed to cut the net, grabbing hold of one side of it as it dangled from its grappling hook. He managed to land on his feet, just in time for the four Turks to converge to him.

He jerked his chin. The four nodded, Reno chuckling along the way.

It was showtime.

* * *

The phone rang, and Arien sat up, reaching for the vibrating gadget. She flicked the screen, waking it up from its dark stupor, and saw the name. "Yes?" she said.

"It's me," came Reno's voice. "We need the chopper."

"ETA?"

She heard him confer with someone else - Rude, probably - and then he came back. "Five minutes," he said. "We're probably gonna need to fuck stuff up, so need firearm."

"Roger that." Before she even finished the sentence, he was gone.

The warehouse was equipped with various tools, mostly things such as drills, hammer, and various glues that came in handy with the various things that the Turks did. Arien went through the toolbox, grabbed a power drill, and went upstairs, her shoes clanging against the metal staircase that led to the roof of the warehouse. The helicopters sat, complacent, like a gigantic insect, its propellers still.

"Let's hope Reno won't crash you," she told one of them, then flung open the door and climbed in, opening the back seat and getting the large mountable machine gun out. It took a few minutes to mount the thing, the large gun being unwieldy and decidedly uncooperative. She was just drilling in the last screw when Reno came up and called her name.

She finished drilling, then put the power tool down and stood up. "Hi," she said.

Reno put on a dry smile. "Hey." He noticed her looking around. "Rude's downstairs. Getting stuff together." _And giving us some time,_ Reno thought, but didn't say it. Arien, who must have noticed something amiss, did not move.

"You okay?" he asked, after a moment of silence.

"I had another attack." She sighed. "That's all."

Reno was all too aware of their time running out. He was all too aware of the possibility that he might not come back tonight. He knew what that would do to her. He knew what would happen to her, if he was gone. He was all too aware of the fact that Arien's time was quickly running out, and that she may not have even few days to live. She never said anything, but Reno knew, from how wan she looked, how frequent her attacks were.

But he had to go. Because he also knew that Arien would not want him to shy away from his calling because of her. He could go down the path that Zen had, become a family man… but Arien had never wanted that, and he knew it. She loved him for who he was, not what he could do for her.

"I have to go," he said.

She nodded. He took her into his arms, and she inhaled, burying her face into his clean jacket. He touched her hair, soft and silky against his fingers, smelled her soft, powdery fragrance, savouring it.

"I-"

Reno placed a slender finger on her lips. "Don't say it," he said. He removed the finger, grinned, and winked.

Then he turned and climbed into the helicopter. Rude came up behind her, a large case in his hand, then climbed into the other side. The door slid closed.

Arien watched as the helicopter took to the air. She wasn't sure if Reno was ever coming back, but this was not the time to cry. He was going into battle, and the least she could do was monitor and give him support. When the helicopter flew out of sight, Arien sighed, and went back downstairs.

* * *

It didn't take long to catch up to the chase.

The expressway had been closed off, the long winding road that led to the ruins of Midgar. But it was a logical choice, and so Reno flew parallel to the expressway, looking for four motorcycles.

And there they were, one silver head riding down the higher ramp, the other three twirling and fighting and doing what no driver's education taught. Gorilla did some weird air-flip and had managed to land on the motorcycle that had managed to stay upright without anyone on it. It was as if gravity and laws of physics went out the window around them.

"Man, that's totally unfair," Reno groused."Ready, Rude?"

"Ready," came the answer, and he heard the door being thrown open. It was showtime. Just then, Sissy-pants opened fire on the Chocobo Head - motorcycles had machine guns? Since when, and where could he get one? Reno wondered - and completely ignored the chopper making a beeline for them. It was as if the Turks weren't worth noticing.

Which pissed Reno off.

"Don't fuckin' mistake who you're supposed to be fightin', man," the redhead said with a grin, then squeezed the trigger.

That got their least, it got Gorilla's attention, since the douche decided to do a wheelie, turn the motorcycle around, and start shooting at the Turks. How Gorilla's motorcycle managed to go backward was an engineering mystery, but Reno wasn't going to become a target practice, so he swerved away and out of view from the two nuisances. He swerved again, and then dived, firing as he came under the higher expressway. He intercepted the two, opening fire. He saw Rude lean out from the open entry, and hastily beat retreat as Rude fired.

The rocket launcher wasn't powerful enough to destroy a town, but it was enough to destroy the part of expressway like a giant hand slapping around the surface. Reno heard cries and as he flew away, he grinned.

He really should have known not to relax his guard until he made a complete getaway. A rookie mistake, something even Elena won't do, but he was tired and he was pissed at these two boneheads. And if Sissy-head lacked something, it was called common sense.

Sissy launched himself and the motorcycle from the crumbling expressway, and straight into the aircraft, right at Rude.

Reno had not heard anything when Rude fell out. He did, however, feel the sharp _ping!_ of a bullet hit the joystick, the shock of it reverberating through his hand. He instantly let go of it, heard Rude's shout, then yanked onto the joystick.

It snapped off in his hand.

Unable to comprehend what was going on for a second, he stared at the plastic and metal part in his hand for a moment, but then the reality began to whack him in the face.

Fact 1: the helicopter was definitely out of control.

Fact 2: there were beeping and booping everywhere.

Fact 3: it was definitely May Day time.

"Shit, shit shit!" he hissed, launching himself from the seat and to the back, seeking an exit. No such thing. The aircraft was spinning in the air, and the wind was a torrent about his ears, but then he saw Rude clinging onto the side of the chopper for his life.

"Oh, hey, Rude!" said the redhead cheerfully. "You were fine!"

The bald man's response was a little grimmer than his partner's. "No," said Rude, "not really."

The helicopter continued to spin like a top, finally crashing into a half-built spire of a building. Reno and Rude let go, making a rough landing for the second time in a week or two. Reno silently swore an oath not to get near a chopper anytime soon.

* * *

Elena had made it back to the warehouse and was staring at the screen when Arien's phone rang again. The Wutaian woman yielded her rolley chair to the younger woman, then stood up, answering the phone. "DeVir," she said. "Oh, yes sir."

Elena perked up. If it had been Rude or Reno, she would have responded with a simple "yes?" or "what". The addition of the honorific told Elena that it was either Tseng or Rufus. But Arien gave no further indication as to who was on the phone, just a string of 'yes', and then apparently the caller had ended the conversation, since Arien managed half a farewell before she slid the phone away into her pocket. She looked at Elena. "Let's go."

"Where are we going?"

Arien twirled her Glock. "The boys are in trouble," she said shortly. "Apparently the helicopters have suddenly become disposable. Or something. We need to go pick them up."

It didn't take long to find them, thanks to Reno's head that looked as if it was on fire in the setting sun. Arien had Elena open the back door and throw down the ropes; she heard her cry "Guys!" down at the two. Arien steadied the helicopter as two more bodies came up. The door slammed, and then Reno climbed into the other seat in the front.

"What just happened?" Arien asked as Reno massaged the bruises. "The entire section of the highway's gone."

"We, ah, shot it up," came Reno's amused reply.

"Why is it that everywhere you go, you destroy civilisations?" Arien complained. "Where are we headed to, anyway?"

"The warehouse," came the gruff reply from the back. "Need to pick a few things up."

"Warehouse it is," she said, turning the helicopter. Reno snapped on the headset and began to give updates to Tseng.

As soon as they got to the warehouse, Rude rushed down to the workshop area after telling Arien to join him. Arien jumped out and rushed after him as before the propellers stopped whirring. Ten minutes later, Rude came back onto the roof, carrying two boxes about the size of a tablet. "Elena," he said gruffly, "get us in the air."

"Wait, what? But DeVir-"

Rude just stared at her.

"Right, sir. Take-off. Right."

The aircraft took off again, leaving a woman unconscious on the concrete floor down below.


	55. Nasty Surprises

Yey! Nearly, oh so nearly done!

Bloodwitch Raven - I always felt that Reno, despite getting into a mayday situation, somehow knew he'd survive. Animal instincts, perhaps? He wasn't all too serious about the situation. On the other hand, Cloud's all seriousness.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - Lots of fill-ins for me in this chapter, as we only get shots of Reno and Rude (and even less so for Elena and Tseng). It's really hard for me to grasp the time lapse for the movie.

Chapter 54: Nasty Surprises

* * *

The sky was turning orange as the sun bade its farewell for the day, and Reno looked outside, remembering the same colour the day a rogue robot had nearly destroyed Midgar. That was so long ago, a lifetime before. He briefly recalled Siva and her death, and mentally made note to check up on Axil. If he could. There was a nagging voice reminding him that maybe Reno'd end up drinking himself to stupor with Axil, licking each other's wounds, but he pointedly ignored that voice. Arien was far stronger than Siva. Arien was a Turk. Siva was not.

He had been through a lot of crap, but he had seriously believed that the Meteor Crisis had been the worst.

Apparently not.

His trousers vibrated, and Reno dug his hand in, silently wishing that he wasn't leashed by this damn electronic gadget. "Reno," he said into the phone. "Whaddya want?" He immediately regretted saying it when he heard Tseng's voice, half-expecting Tseng to start lecturing about respect and order and that sort of garbage, but he didn't.

If Tseng noticed Reno's decidedly flippant tone, he let it slide. "Order one-four-nine," Tseng said. Reno raised an eyebrow, then mouthed the numbers at Rude, who nodded. They already knew this was going to be a sabotage order. Tseng repeating it was just a confirmation of Rufus' wishes.

"And the targets?" Reno asked.

Tseng did not miss a beat. "Terminate," he said, "with extreme prejudice. Tseng out." There was a blip, and then Reno stared at the phone screen for a moment, making sure that he was actually gone, before sliding the phone into his pocket.

"Well?" Rude asked.

"Terminate with extreme prejudice. Rufus has an axe to grind with Sissy and Gorilla."

Rude's expression remained still, but his lips twitched, ever so slightly. "Sissy and Gorilla?" Rude echoed.

"Yeah. The girly one's Sissy, and the one that looks like he was breastfed steroids is Gorilla. Damn, Sissy seriously looks like a girl. Slap on a pair of breasts and he can work at Violetta's."

Rude had to try really hard not to laugh.

It was a short ride, but it felt long. Everyone was silent; Elena, who was piloting the helicopter, was also silent, unnaturally so. Reno paid it no mind. He couldn't afford to pay it any attention, since Rude was fiddling with something in a box. There was an identical box by his feet, unopened. Reno closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, breathing out, counting to four. Whatever happened in the next hour, nothing else mattered. This was the moment. This was the fight, and he was going to come out winning. Even if he was vastly overpowered, he always envisioned himself winning, because losing… well, death wasn't the worst ending for the Turks, and he'd rather not think about it.

"We're here," came Elena's voice from the front.

"Right. Let's get to work."

Reno had always liked the moment of rush as he dropped out of the helicopter, the rushing wind, the oncoming ground, the moment of danger that coursed through his veins. He landed on one knee, then stood up, dusting himself off. Rude came down after him, holding what appeared to be a bundle of… explosives. He handed one to the redhead, who grinned. This was going to be fun.

* * *

Tseng felt the wind on his face, marvelling at it for a moment. The wind carried the smell of metal and oil, a familiar smell of industrialism, but to him, it wasn't just the smell of a city, or even his career.

It was the smell of his life.

Only a few days ago, he had wondered if he would make it. Oh, he hadn't given up hope - he never did - but it had been close. He had been lost, isolated, on the brink of death, with no hope of contacting the team. And healing had been out of reach. It had seemed to be the end game.

And then, Arien had come, brought him and Elena back to the Edge, and had healed them.

Granted, the healing process had been excruciating. Growing a bone that rapidly was not something the body was trained to do, nor was it feasible to force the body to undergo so many cell replication cycles in such a short amount of time. He had to regrow the skin on his entire left abdomen in two days, and it had required a fine touch and much concentration on DeVir's part to pull that off. She had warned Rufus - and him - that she had no idea what would happen in the long run. But they were short on manpower, and Tseng felt he needed to get back in the game as soon as possible. He'd deal with the possible problems later, if there was, in fact, a later. Likely scenario was that his body would simply call it quits one day and he'd flop over, dead, but that was the usual fate for those who had massive dosages of mako anyway. They had been promised youth, not longevity.

The town centre was a mess, as if a giant had decided to throw a temper tantrum and had thrashed around in pain. Broken pieces of metal, its jagged edges raw, were scattered about, being a hazard to pretty much everyone. But the foundation of the monument was still there, like an open wound in the ground.

Three steps forward, two steps back.

Well, first thing first. He pulled out his phone, dialling a single number, then heard the petulant drawl. He paid no mind to the rebellious greeting, having more pressing issues at hand.

"Order one-four-nine," the leader of the Turks said into the phone. 149 stood for 'sabotage progress', and it was an order that the Turks rarely used these days; since the days of the Zirconiade Crisis, the Turks' orders had usually become 'kill' rather than 'sabotage'. He hoped Reno remembered the codes, heard the redhead mutter something to someone else - probably Rude - and then Reno was back on the phone.

"And the targets?" came the query.

Tseng considered the point for a moment. "Exterminate," he said, "with extreme prejudice." He ended the conversation with "Tseng out".

He walked around the area, taking mental notes. People had long vacated the scene, and there was no one around to watch Tseng walk around. Perhaps This was fortunate, since now they could start rebuilding the Shinra HQ without having to dismantle the monument first. He had been concerned about the public backlash if they were to dismantle the monument; he could just imagine the uproar if Rufus had just simply said, "we're dismantling the monument for the victims of the Midgar Crisis and we're building my tower on top of it!". Now they had an excuse to just get rid of the placeholder.

_We__'ve been far too concerned with the past, _Tseng thought. _To rebuild we must start anew._

It was a refreshing thought, considering the fact that at every turn there had been enemies and obstacles barring their way. Rufus and Devir were sick, and from what he had seen and heard, DeVir was dangerously close to dying. Reno was trying to hide his anxiety and was failing, Rude was trying to cover for his partner and was failing, and Elena and he had been tortured. The team wasn't off to a good start.

But they were off to a start, rather than scrambling around trying to put an end to a mess, which was better than nothing.

_It can__'t get any worse,_ Tseng thought. He knew - instinctively - that Arien would hang in there, with everything that she could. Because she was a Turk. Because Reno wouldn't let her go. He'd fight, teeth and nail, to hold onto her, because Reno needed her, and needed her desperately. She was the only thing he knew would be there, at the end of the day, despite all the crap he had done. She was his oasis, the bricks he built his home from, and Reno was territorial. He was going to hold onto his home, and he didn't have a home without Arien in it.

They'd make it. Tseng knew it. They would.

* * *

"Hey, partner," said Reno, cocking his head toward the taller man. The sun was setting in earnest, a moment before blue took over the orange and the true night came. Rude looked at him.

"Is this thing powerful?" He showed the bald man the explosive in his hand. Not that Rude needed to see it. He had built the thing, fireworks and all.

"It's the collective result of Shinra technology," Rude replied. Reno's eyes widened.

"You made it?"

It was rather flattering to see that Reno believed Rude was the collective of Shinra technology. Rude himself doubted it - for example, there was no way he was going to be able to build supersoldiers out of a lab - but he was flattered nonetheless.

"Regardless of the power, it's flashy," said Rude.

"Whoa."

"You like it, don't you, partner?"

Reno didn't answer the question, but his facial expression told him that the redhead was well-pleased. Reno liked toys, he liked big toys, and he liked things that exploded. It was just who he was. He faced forward, a sly grin on his face.

"No overwork today," he chirped. Cloud came racing out of the tunnel in front of them, a silent nod between the three men who happened to be fighting on the same side. And then the blond was gone, racing down the highway, chasing after JENOVA and the troublesome kid.

Then they set to work.

Rigging a bomb is an easy job for the Turks, especially equipped with the things the two were at the moment; a few screwdrivers, a timer, a couple of pliers was all they needed. All it involved was connecting the wires and a fuse to the timer, then setting it off. Rude finished rigging his part first, then Reno mounted it. It took less than a minute.

"Set the timer," Rude said.

"Yeah." A press of a button, and then the two walked away, Reno with his hands in his pockets, whistling.

The Turks had timed it just right. Their purpose wasn't to defeat the trio with one stone, but rather to whittle down the other two so that Cloud can have a fair fight with the snub-nosed kid. And sure enough, the two came after Cloud, Gorilla on the same motorcycle as Sissy-pants.

Reno and Rude watched.

Sissy noticed it first, a quickly running-down timer, its seconds running out as the motorcycle went forward. The two might be superhumans, but there was no way it'd survive the explosion unscathed.

Reno laughed.

The two never knew just how much of a blast Reno and Rude had packed into the small bomb; the explosion caused a huge gust of wind with its blast, stirring up the dust from the highway that became a grey cloud rising from the asphalt; with it, the fireworks exploded in the sunset, blooming flowers of pink, red, blue, and green. Reno grinned. He liked flashy things and he liked things exploding, and Rude understood it well. The bomb couldn't be flashier, even if it tried. It could be that Rude had run out of explosives and had just lumped fireworks for the hell of it, but hey, it packed a punch and from the sounds of it, Sissy and Gorilla were down. Reno pulled out the phone and dialled.

"'Laney, it's done," he said. "Yeah, come pick us up. What? Yeah. Yeah, figured. Thanks." He looked at Rude, checking to see if a motorcycle would come hurtling their way. None came. "Gotta check the damage of the monument before people start crowdin'. Tseng said to rendezvous at the square."

But Reno's good mood did not last for long. After Elena picked them up and they were in the air, Rude turned to the redhead, who had a very smug grin on his face. "Reno."

"Huh?" The redhead grinned at him. "Cheer up man! That was one awesome bomb. Hell yeah!" He raised his hand for a high five. Rude did not reciprocate the sentiment.

"About DeVir," he said.

Reno's hand went back to the armrest on the seat. "What about her?" he asked, slowly. "Wait…" His aquamarine eyes looked a darker shade of blue for a second. "Is she-"

Rude shook his head, but his face was grim. "She had another attack as I left," he said, his voice rough.

Reno's face was still. "And?" he asked. "Hang on a sec. Why the fuck didn't you tell me, oh, I don't know, half an hour before?!" The last part was nearly a shout. "Why the fuck did you wait?!"

Rude looked away for a moment. Reno's face was getting paler, which was never a good sign. He was usually pale as a sheet before he lost it. But Rude had a good reason and he wasn't about to back down.

"Because I trusted DeVir's judgement."

"The fuck you- wait, what?"

"DeVir asked me not to tell you," Rude said. "Until the crucial part was over. And I trusted her judgement."

Reno's anger deflated, and he looked away, his expression bitter. "That bitch," he murmured. "That fuckin' bitch."

Rude cast a glance at him.

"Why do women always do this?" Reno asked to no one in particular. "They worry more about not worrying people rather than focusin' on making the situation better! Why, fuckin' god-damn it, why?!" He bit his lip. "I swear, if she dies, I'll-"

"She won't," came the calm voice from the pilot seat.

"I'll choke the crap out of- what? What was that, 'Laney?"

"She won't die," came Elena's reassurance.

"And you'd know 'cause… what?"

"Because, Reno, she loves you, as crazy as that sounds," said the blond woman from the pilot seat. "I don't know why, but she does. And Reno? She loves you too much to give up. She's fighting with teeth and nail, so give her some credit, won't you?"

The helicopter began to descend.

_Trust me._

Trust was hard to come by as a Turk, and trusting someone's judgement - when it was so glaringly obvious that there could have been other ways - was even harder. But Arien deserved it. She deserved the trust, after all the things that she had shown to him, that she would not idly throw her life away. She must have had a reason to ask Rude not to tell him. Whatever that reason was, he could ask, since he trusted her to live. He knew that it wasn't a matter of trust whether she lived or died, but he could do nothing else.

The helicopter landed. He got out, looking up. The sky was slowly turning violet, the soft hue of a flower, the sky clear. He smelled change in the air, but he wasn't sure if the change was something he was going to like, or not.

"I knew it," he groused to no one in particular. Tseng was there, waiting, hands crossed behind his back. "I knew I should've stayed away from helicopters." It wasn't the helicopter's fault that Arien was alone, possibly passed out, or even dead, but he combined the two events in the head.

Rufus sat in the chair, his eyes impassive. Reno bowed his head in obeisance, and right then, he sealed away his feelings for Arien, for his life, for his happiness, and became the agent that Rufus required of him. If a part of him cursed him and his master for destroying his humanity, he didn't dare listen.


	56. In the Rain

Bloodwitch Raven - And here we have the rather anti-climactic culmination of the plot! Unfortunately I couldn't add Reno to the action, since he just blew up the highway then ran off to somewhere. But it does give a sort of closure.

Guest - Well, if she's dead, Reno'd go bonkers. And as much as I'd love to watch Reno go all postal, I think the citizens of the Edge would loudly protest. That, and Rufus' send me the bill for killing off his agent.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - Near the end! Still haven't decided whether to go forth with the original plot in regards to the end of this part of the series, or go with the new one. I'll decide later.

Chapter 55: In the Rain

* * *

Rufus Shinra waited, patiently, as he ever did for his subordinates. He knew when to act, and when not to, and he was aware that there was no point hurrying the Turks. They would come when they could. And sure enough, there was Elena, walking with Reno and Rude.

"We're here, sir," Tseng said.

Rufus looked up. Four. Why weren't there five? _Arien DeVir should be here, _he thought. Because she was part of the team. Because she had thrown her life away to save his, and his pride. But she wasn't. And he vaguely wondered why.

"Where's DeVir?" he finally asked.

Reno, the person Rufus had expected to answer, looked away. And didn't answer.

"Reno."

"She's indisposed," said Rude. Rufus looked up at the big man.

"Expla- oh." He could easily imagine. Arien must have had another attack. And Reno, the loyal soldier that he was, had left her, and had come to him, because his master had called. Even though Arien might be dying. Even though she might be dead.

Even though without her, he would break.

And it was killing him.

Rufus nodded, almost to himself, feeling Reno's unwavering loyalty, almost wishing that he could give the redhead the freedom to choose the woman that was so part of his life that losing her was akin to losing a limb.

What Reno had for Arien wasn't love. It had long transcended love into something that was more fundamental, more desperate, more basic. It was a need of her, just her presence, to cobble his sanity together, to hold himself together, to keep fighting to live on. He needed someone to keep fighting for when he was close to dying, and all the difference was whether to keep fighting or not. He needed a cause. And Arien - for whatever reason - was his cause, his reason to breathe one more time, to walk one more step. And he knew somehow that he was the same for her. It was a sick kind of codependency that most therapists warned couples of, but then again, they were one fucked-up bunch.

Every moment here was killing him, and Rufus, who knew Reno too well by now, could see it. His face was neutral, but his eyes were a shade darker, and his face was oddly empty.

But Shinra must go on. And Rufus needed Reno here.

"We will begin the assessment of the damage and the possible construction of office housing," Rufus began. "We will need to gather all assets, both movable and immovable. I want full report, including all personnels available at moment's notice, our allies, monetary accounts. But more so than that, I want to know just how much the people trust us."

"Us?" Elena asked.

"Shinra, yes. We have provided medication and healthcare at the time of crisis, provided societal infrastructure. I want to know how aware the citizens are of our doing. For that, we need the-"

"Intelligence," Reno said, hoarsely. "We need them."

"How soon can you get in touch with them, Reno?"

Reno looked down. "I'm… not sure," he said finally. "I wasn't that close to them, De-" he stopped, swallowed. "DeVir was."

_It was a dream. Move on,_ said a cruel voice in his head. Reno ignored it. He couldn't do anything but hope. Because he had to. She wasn't dead. She wasn't.

_You don__'t know that._

Reno gritted his teeth and tried not to think about it. He wasn't sure how Axil would react to him asking to join Shinra again. He wouldn't blame Axil if he blamed himself, Reno, and everyone else in Shinra for taking his beloved away as a result of series of mistakes. Hell, he was pretty much in the same boat. Zen… well, Zen was out of the game, probably. And everyone else… he wasn't feeling up to going through Arien's contact list and calling them. They'd ask how Arien was, and if she was gone… he desperately tried to shut that thought out.

Rufus looked at him, his blue eyes boring into his own, reminding of where his loyalties lay. And Reno bent his head in obeisance, tucking that glimmer of hope away, keeping the flame alive, while Rufus went back to the business side. He had chosen his path, long ago, and he thought he'd been ready for it. But why oh why did it hurt?

"Reno and Elena, gather as many from the Intelligence. I want details on how they view us, and I want them as soon as possible. This is our chance to move, and we will not miss it-" he looked up.

And so did everyone else.

It wasn't the sort of rain that made one scramble for shelter. It was the gentler kind of rain, the sort that brought new life with, the kind that came in late spring or early summer, promising blooms and new sprouts. It was the kind of rain that brought the wet, fresh smell of soil, the newly cut grass, and remembrances of the beginning of summers during childhood.

Reno felt the wet drops drip down his face, the light moisture washing him, soaking into his hair, plastering the red strands down to his face. It was the kind of rain that he used to play in as a child, revelling in getting wet and the warmth of the water. He remembered his summers in the sun, watching the raindrops fall from the window, waiting to go outside.

"Sir!"

Reno looked down at Elena's gasp. For a moment, he wasn't sure what made her gasp, but then he saw it. Green sparks, like a miniature version of the Lifestream that he had seen on that fateful day, were sprouting from the back of Rufus' hands, where Geostigma lesions were visible. They danced in the air, and then slowly dissipated, as if the rain washed it away.

Reno blinked.

_Can this mean__… Can it be?_

Reno didn't need to ask Rufus for permission. The president simply nodded his permission, and then simply said, "Go".

Reno took off. And for the first time in his busy, active life, he prayed desperately for the rain to not end, to last just a little longer, so that he could save her, so that they could hold true to their promises to Axil and Siva. So that he won't fall apart. So that he won't be alone. As he ran, he pulled out his phone, and dialled, hoping that she'll get the message.

The rain continued to fall.

* * *

Arien wasn't sure if she was dreaming or if she was dead. She felt pain, incredible pain, and she fell onto the floor. She had barely managed to gesture at Rude to get going, and then she had really given up on trying to move.

Her head hurt. She couldn't move. And before her eyes, images flashed like a carousel, as if her brain was trying to do a massive shuffle of memories, random images from random moments in her life, in no particular order. The stove in the house she grew up in, her mother's laughter, her father's study, sleeping in the same bed with her sister, the moon shining on Wutai… and then her years in the Academy, her room, the desk she studied for seven, long years, the dilapidated kitchen that hardly anyone used, the uniform with the ribbon - for some reason she remembered the exact colour - and the gymnasium, the firing ranges, the excursions into Midgar, the redheaded boy who nearly got in a fight with her when she was fifteen, the graduation, the rejection letters…

So many images, so many memories. They all rushed past her, her first day in the Intelligence, her tiny desk as one of the lower sections, the first time she met Jane Whistler, Ivy's smile, Siva laughing, Felicita bent over a report, Zen drinking, Axil at the shooting ranges, everyone who had ever fought with her, everyone who had bled with her… and then Reno, his flaming red hair, his crooked smile, his body, the smell of blood and gunpowder, his eyes staring into hers, his hands…

The redheaded boy. She realised that the redheaded kid who called her names in the street - and nearly got in a fight with her - must have been Reno. It had to be. No one else had that smile.

_I want to live_, she thought desperately. _I want to live. I need to live._

_Open your eyes, damn it. _

One blink, then two. It was sheer effort just to move her eyelids. She tried to breathe, felt her lungs expand ever so slowly, as if someone had dumped them in molasses. Was this what Siva had gone through? No wonder she had given up. Just breathing was a tremendous chore, taking so much effort that she seriously considered just not breathing for a while.

And then her phone rang.

Thankfully, her phone was in her pocket. Otherwise she never would have gotten the message. She tried to get to the phone as soon as possible, but just moving her hand was exhausting in the midst of all the haze of pain, and she managed to hit TALK just as the service went to voicemail.

"Arie!" Reno was shouting. "Get out! Get out into the rain!"

What?

"Just do it! Listen to me! Just get out into the rain, I'll try to get there as soon as possible, but for Shiva's sake, just get into the rain, and don't wear a fuckin' hat on your head. Do it, before the rain-" apparently time was up, since he got cut off.

The message made little sense.

But then again, Reno never really explained anything unless she asked for it, but listening to it tended to be an excellent idea. He very rarely demanded her to do anything without a valid reason, and if he was saying it that urgently, she had no reason to refuse.

Well, except she couldn't very well move her arm, let alone waltz out into the rain.

But she could at least try.

Was it worth the effort?

Wasn't hope also doing one's best for the best outcome?

Didn't she trust in him?

Shouldn't she at least try?

She gritted her teeth. The pain was coming in waves, but rain would not wait. So she began to move. She could not get up - she wasn't sure if she could stay upright - and so she crawled, moving with her arms, dragging herself forward. She felt like she was a caterpillar, her body limp and trailing behind, a sluggish slithering forward through the dust on the concrete floor.

She didn't care. She'll crawl with her teeth if she had to.

But dear gods, her head hurt.

One arm, then another arm. Her breaths were slow, since it just hurt too much to breathe. Her body was screaming from the lack of oxygen and she was seeing spots, but still she crawled. Her hair fell down in front of her face and she couldn't see very well, but still she tried. She couldn't rest. If she rested, she'd never get up.

And all throughout, Reno's almost painful shout was echoing in her ears.

* * *

And that was how Reno found her.

Thankfully, where he had been was not too far from where the warehouse was, so he took off. He dodged people stopping in the middle of the street, frantic to get to the warehouse. He could only hope that Arien was up and mobile, but she hadn't picked up, which was very worrying. So he ran, as fast as he could, flitting through the streets. He slammed the warehouse door open, and saw Arien on the ground, crawling. Her hair was like a curtain in front of her face, and if it had been darker she would have been straight out of a horror movie.

But it was Arien, trying desperately to get outside.

"Arie!" He shouted, running toward her. "What the hell? What?"

"Can't…" she gasped. Tears were streaming down her face. "Move…" She crumpled back onto the floor, as if she had finally run out of energy.

"Oh. Oh god." He grabbed her under her arms. She didn't move, as he expected her to, but instead was a dead weight. "C'mon. I'll carry you."

Normally, she would have shook her head, but she didn't; instead, she merely allowed Reno to carry her as he dragged her out of the warehouse, and into the street. The rain was getting harder, not that Reno cared. He was already sopping wet, and soon she would be too.

She slumped into him. He felt the outlines of her pistols against his arm as her head lolled weakly against his shoulder. She was so light against him, felt so small as she laboured to breathe, to just live a moment longer. And as the rain fell, he drew her tightly to him, as if she'd fly away if he didn't do so. He felt her gasps as she struggled for another swallow of air.

All the while, the benevolent rain fell.

And then she jerked.

She jerked like a puppet with strings getting jerked. Over and over she jerked as the green strands of light danced above her head, slowly dissipating into the air.

And then she slumped again. Her eyes were closed.

"Arie?" Reno slapped her face lightly. "Arie, wake up."

No response.

Did she die?

No, she was breathing. Her breaths came a little more easily than before, and when he turned her head and checked the nape of her neck, the black smear that had tormented them for months was gone, leaving nothing but creamy skin and soft, dark hair.

And then she opened her eyes.

He slowly let her down onto the asphalt as she breathed in. She sat, her back bent, then looked up at him.

"Is it… gone?" She asked.

Reno nodded as he sat next to her on the asphalt, holding her as she began to cry, as she cried for Siva, for every child who had died before this saving rain. Because she would live, now she could cry. And cry she did, as if the dam had broken, her tears getting lost in the rain that eventually stopped. The sun came out, the last soft rays of the day, as the sky bade it goodbye and got ready for the night.

Eventually Arien and Reno got up. She was still weak, but at least she could walk now. Looking at each other's faces, with hair plastered on their heads and their clothes dripping wet, Arien finally smiled a small smile.

"You look a mess," Reno noted, returning her smile with a big grin.

"So do you."

"C'mon, let's go home."

Home. The apartment where Reno had made a life with her, the nest where he could go back to at the end of the day. But the apartment wasn't just a home because he had lived in it; it was because he had made it, with her, because it was filled with good memories. Because she was there. Because every room said that Arien was going to be there.

The night came, and with it, the silvery moon. Arien sneezed once, then twice as they walked, shivering.

"You cold?"

She nodded.

"C'mon." He drew her closer as they walked. "We have a lot of work to do," he told her as they walked through the avenues that were eerily quiet. No doubt people were enjoying their first disease-free night indoors, with the people they loved.

"Don't talk to me about work right now," she groaned.

When they reached the front door, the apartment was there, quietly waiting for them. It was dark, but light flooded as she turned it on, the familiar sights and smells welcoming the two home.

_Welcome home,_ said every part of the apartment. _Welcome home._

And for the first time in his life, Reno was free from worries and cares. Here, for tonight, he would spend it in peace with his partner and the woman he trusted it, and the silence would not be overwhelming, but just a comforting blanket reminding him of the heartbeats.

And that was all he needed. For now.


	57. Hopes in the Sky

Bloodwitch Raven - I do like to end on happy notes for Reno. His life is kind of shitty. And this is, after all, a Reno-centric fic. It has a lot of Arien in it, but in the end it's about _his_ growth as a person (and probably as a boyfriend, although that's still questionable).

Tashasaurous - Reno's all the happier because she's feeling better. And Arien might not realise, but he really does like her in more than just a girlfriend sort of way. This fight was just as much his as it was hers, and he doesn't like to lose.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - I'm actually considering writing that scene before rolling out _Dum Spiro Spero_, since I'm still hammering out a beat sheet for the third part. I got the settings down, and some scenes, but the general arc is still fuzzy.

This scene was originally supposed to contain some very romantically steamy moments, but I decided that these two are way beyond that by now. If you DO want to read the steamy version, PM me (FF net will probably yell at me if I post it).

Chapter 56: Hopes in the Sky

* * *

Two days had passed since that rain. Reports of cured Geostima were spreading like wildfire, and Reno woke up that particular morning, feeling… lighter. It was as if he had unknowingly been fettered, but somehow the shackles had shattered. He sat up, looked at Arien who was still sleeping, and smiled.

_After a hurricane, comes the rainbow._

And everything just looked… brighter today. He had no idea what would happen tomorrow, but it felt like the doors had opened, leading to paths that he had never considered before. He wasn't alone anymore - he knew that - but he finally felt that he could trust her to stay with him, no matter what. And he didn't mean it in the sense of infidelity and other problems that many couples had; no, he had never questioned that, not since that fateful day when he had walked into this apartment for the first time. But being a Turk, there were far too many variables that could lead to six feet under for either of them. He was finally feeling that Arien would survive. He was starting to feel in control of his life again.

He tapped out a cigarette, and lit it. Even this tasted better. And with that, Arien woke up. Her eyes looked sleepy as she came to wakefulness, and then she rubbed her eyes like a cat. "Mmm," she said.

"Mornin'."

She reached over for her phone, checked the time. "And Rufus didn't call us at five in the morning to get over stat because his sleeve's caught in the vent," she noted. "I'm impressed." She scrolled through the messages, smiling at each of them. Messages from her friends, reminding that she owed them a visit, queries about how she was doing, asking her to meet up with them…

"I guess Rufus did manage to get the fireworks going," she said after a moment.

"Did he?"

"Yes. I didn't think he'd manage it in such a short time, but I guess he's still Rufus Shinra." There was supposed to be a massive celebration with fireworks that night, something that Reno and Arien had only heard about the previous day. Elena had brightly said that the two didn't need to worry about anything, she was taking care of it. Fireworks were painful for both Reno and Arien; they were reminders of the happier days, and those who had gone before them, especially Siva. But they weren't going to miss it, since Axil was coming. They owed it to him. Elena, Rude, Axil, Shivvalan, and Felicita, even Ivy and Zen were coming over that day.

"To put a period to all the sad sentences," Felicita had said. No one was going to argue.

Even though the funeral was in the past, none of Siva's friends had the time to properly mourn her and to realise that their beloved friend was truly gone. Arien had been busy, and Felicita and Ivy had waited to truly talk about Siva, waited for Arien to calm down, to have the time to think about things other than the world ending. And Axil… well, ever since that day, Shivvalan and Reno and Rude and everyone else had left the man, giving the man some room to adjust, to come to terms with it on his own time.

But now, the friends were coming together.

"When are the girls comin'?" Reno asked, as he scrolled through his own phone - no messages, so evidently Rufus didn't need any babysitting - and put it down. "Who's comin', anyway?"

"Three. It's Felicita, Ivy, and Elena. Why are you asking?"

"Well, for one thing, I gotta get away before the cavalry arrives. Two, call it curiosity." He sat up. After all the torrential succession of events, it felt odd to have nothing to do for the day. It felt even odder to have Arien not looking like she was about to die. Hell, it was weird to be peaceful, period.

That reminded him.

"Arie," he said, looking at her, "we gotta talk."

Arien's expression warped into something like a tearful expression for a split second, but then her mask was back. She put her phone, entwined her fingers, sat up primly, and looked at him. "What about?" she asked, her tone oddly neutral.

"Listen," he began, not knowing how to begin, "when you had the Soot Disease and well, when you didn't tell me-" how the hell was he supposed to say this? He had no idea. "I really don't know how to say this, but-"

Her lips tightened. "It's okay," she said, her voice gentle. "I understand."

"You do? Wait, understand what?"

"Yes," she said, her tone calm. Which was not a good sign, considering her expression. "Our relationship is built on trust and pretty much nothing else, Reno. Sex does not a good relationship make, although I'd imagine it would help, and financially, we're both fairly independent if we want to be. It's purely emotional, and I betrayed your trust." She shrugged. "I understand. Although, considering that this place is under my name, we'll have to work something out about who's moving out and all that."

Reno blinked.

"Er?"

"And moving out… that's going to be a hassle," she continued. "Not sure-"

"Hang on, hang on a sec. Move out? What?"

"Well, we can't continue living together, can we?"

"Why the hell not?"

It was her turn to blink. "I thought- wait, oh god, I'm such an idiot-"

Reno began to laugh.

"Shut up," she shouted, her face turning red. "Shut up, shut up, shut up!"

"I can't-" gasp. "Stop-" Reno struggled for his breath. "Here you are, looking all self-sacrificing and hurt, and it was for-" he burst into laughter again. "You looked like a heroine from one of those sappy romance films, I swear, and here I was, totally fuckin' confused and no idea where you're going with this-"

"I said, shut up!"

It took a good few minutes for Reno to calm down. "I'm gonna hold this over your pretty head for a while," he said, chuckling.

Arien groaned, rolling her eyes toward the heavens. "Maybe we should break up after all." But then she looked at him, her face somber. "So, what was it that you wanted to talk about?"

Reno stopped laughing, gathered his thoughts together. He looked into her eyes - blue-grey eyes, he'd seen them filled with tears, with grief, with joy - and felt as if he was seeing her naked for the first time. Not naked, as in about to have sex, but just raw, without the mask and the defences. He must've seen her like this before, but for some reason, he couldn't remember when.

"Next time," he said seriously, "next time there's something threatening you, you gotta tell me, Arie. Because you're mine. You're fuckin' mine, and nobody gets to have you."

"Not even natural causes?"

"Nope." He shook his head. "I didn't get shot at, nearly go crazy, nearly get in a shoot-out with Zen Flescher, buy god-damn flowers, have a face-off with one of the legendary spies ever to be work for Shinra, and all that other crap you made me go through, just for something to come and snatch you away. So next time, you better fuckin' tell me."

Arien said nothing for a moment. But then, she smiled. More like a grin. But it was a smile.

"You love me," she said.

"Sure, if you wanna call it that. Whatever."

"Admit it. You love me."

He nearly screamed in frustration. What was up with women? Why couldn't just say yes and be happy with it? Gods! "I don't even fuckin' know what love is!" he shouted. "So I don't rightly know!"

"No worries." She leaned over. And then he felt a warm pair of lips pressed against his own that turned a little more passionate than she had intended, since Reno wasn't about to stop there. When he finally let her go, she looked a little flushed, her cheeks a pale shade of pink. She pressed her hand against his chest, as if she was feeling his heartbeat. She probably was.

"Feel anything interesting?"

She looked away. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you," she murmured. "I really am."

"Good. Just fuckin' tell me, next time. I know you were scared, but trust me, it's just easier if you tell me."

She nodded.

"Great. Now that _that_'s out of the way…." He pulled her onto him.

"Um, what are you doing?"

"You know," he mused, "we've never actually had a moment together before where we didn't have to do anything. When we first met we were both swamped with work, then you got kidnapped, then we got back together but you were pretty depressed and then this shit happened. Can we just take a moment to appreciate the fact that we don't have anything to do right now? No deadlines, no Tsengie yammerin' at us, no Rufus glaring at us to read his mind and jump before he tells us to."

"You don't feel… disturbed?"

"Oh, don't worry, I'll start feeling jittery in a day or two," he admitted. "But for now, I'm just gonna enjoy the novelty."

* * *

Reno left just as Felicita was coming up the steps. "Have fun," he said as he jangled the keys in his hand. "And don't trash the place. I have to live there."

Felicita glared for a moment, but then smiled. "I'll try," she said as she went down the corridor. "Say hi to the boys."

"Gotcha."

The sky was clear, the sun still in the sky. The sky was blue, so blue, the sun's rays warm and glowing, and he whistled as he went out into the street. Axil didn't need a moping buddy. He just needed a reminder that even with Siva gone, the man had people he could rely on. With women that apparently involved lots of talking, but with the men, it was mostly drinking. Because alcohol solved most problems. Temporarily, anyway.

As Reno walked to Axil's place, he noticed something different about the town. Everyone's face had less gloom, as if a huge weight had been lifted. Even the air seemed a little clearer. Kids once again played in the streets, engaged in a game of tag. Families walked, hand in hand, as couples and friends met and walked off in groups.

For the first time, the town was filled with bright hope.

When he got to Axil's place, the others were already there. "Got booze," the redhead said, shoving the bag into Axil's hand. "How've you been doin'?"

"Better," said the man. "Better than I thought, which makes me feel-"

"Stop," said the redhead. "If I know anything about Siva, she won't appreciate you mopin' around and growing mold. Life doesn't stop, Ax."

"And you think you can say that if Arien wasn't cured?"

Reno smiled, but the smile looked a little lonely for some reason. "Yeah," he said. "I left her to die, remember? Life goes on."

Axil was about to respond, but then Shivvalan yelled "whatcha talking about, guys?". And with that, the conversation was over. When Reno entered the room, the other men were seated on the sofa and the floor. He looked around; just as Arien's presence was in the rooms they shared in their own apartment, Siva's presence lingered, like a ghost that refused to leave. Bright splash of colours here and there, an orange blanket folded over the arm of the sofa… women left indelible marks on their men, like a brand. Men were transient, but women tended to stick to their routines like glue.

"Fireworks tonight," said Shivvalan.

"Yup." Reno caught the beer slid over to him, cracked it open. "There's gonna be party everywhere."

"Well," said Shiv. "To peaceful times."

"Great. You just jinxed us."

"Fine. Peaceful times until some shit explodes and we're all called to action." The men raised their beers in toast. Shiv took a deep swig, and then put it down. "Oh, Reno?"

Reno, who was concentrating on his beer, looked up. "Huh?"

"About your offer," Shiv said. Axil was looking at Shiv, and then Reno, and then Rude. "We've decided-"

"Hang on. Who's we?"

"Axil and me," Shiv clarified. "We're going to accept. Shinra… it dealt us shitty cards, but it also gave us everything we have."

"Gotcha. But can we not talk shop today? Today I'm not a Turk, man. I just wanna drink and watch the fireworks and go home and crash."

"Sounds like a plan." The doorbell rang, and Axil got up. From the sounds of it, Zen had arrived. Reno scowled, but Shiv winked, and Reno gave up. He did have Zen's dirty secrets, after all. Most likely the blond would keep his god-damn mouth shut.

Across the town, the girls were seated around a table. "It's over," said Felicita. "I wish Siva was here."

But Arien smiled. "She is," she said. "Maybe not here, maybe not with us, but she's here, as long as we remember her. And as long as we remember her, she'll be with us."

Ivy nodded. "To Siva," she said, "who always laughed-"

"And always cared-" added Felicita.

"And was an optimist, something we all needed at one point or another." Arien looked at Elena, who didn't add to the toast. "And Elena, you knew Siva too. Maybe not as well as we did, but you were her friend."

"I was?" Elena looked up.

"Of course. Siva liked you, and that's all that mattered to her."

And with that, Elena finally cried. All the pressure, worry, fear came out, and the three men rubbed her back, held her blond hair away from her face as Elena cried, hoping that her tears would wash all the fear away, just as that miraculous rain did, so they can all start anew. So that they could move forward. Because life ruthlessly went on, and they couldn't just stand still. They had to move forward.

The girls and the boys met up at eight, just as the sun disappeared and the night reigned in the sky. They sat on a long bench, drinking beer and wine, eating food and waiting. The folks from all over town were starting to congregate in the broken town centre. The debris had been cleared away, leaving just an empty space. The stars were in the sky when Reno looked up, like tiny flakes of ice. The girls sat on one side, the boys on the other, like a bunch of teenagers, laughing and talking - or more like the girls laughing and talking, while the boys looked on - and the night deepened.

And then they heard a thunderous boom.

"It's started! It's started!" Elena whispered, excited. Above their heads, magenta and green sparkled for a moment, then disappeared as another boom thundered. The sky was lit up and the tiny flames danced and died as one firework after another went up. People cheered around them as the sky was painted in colours of the rainbow.

_After the storm comes the rainbow._

Tseng was probably watching with Rufus, and his mother with his brother, and Cloud with Tifa. Everyone was with the people they loved and cared about tonight. He saw Michele with her gang some distance away; she waved wildly at Rude, who did not move, but did nod back at her. Apparently that was enough for the girl. She was still keeping tabs on Evan and Kyrie, the last he heard; the liaison was Arien, not him, so he wasn't quite up to date with the kids, but from what he knew, they were doing fine. And Rufus, for better or for worse, cared for the half-brother. Not sure why, but the man just did.

The percussive explosions followed by the cheers reminded Reno of life. In the fog of gloom and worry, he had nearly forgotten that life was real, as real as it could be. He had nearly forgotten everything but to just keep pushing forward. But now that he could stop for a moment and take a breath, everything felt so vivid, so more vibrant. He was remembering how to dream, and he felt as if he was remembering how to love again.

The colours burst in the sky.

His life might be a mess, but never would he look away again. He knew that while he was an agent first, he couldn't just leave the woman in his life and run off from one mission to the next. He thought he could, but not now. Not after all the crap that he had gone through.

So he'll just have to do both.

The lights rose and fell, and the people celebrated their victories around him. Reno leaned forward a little to look at Arien. She was looking up, her face lit up by the bright white lights dotting the dark sky. Her blue-grey eyes sparkled as she leaned in to hear Felicita whisper something. She laughed, then leaned forward as well. Her eyes brightened even more to see him.

She had suffered loss. And so had he. But after all the crap, they had learned what it meant to be together; it was more than a friendship, it was more than romance. It was a long companionship, to make mistakes and to forgive.

And well, he could live with that.


	58. Epilogue

Bloodwitch Raven - I guess I'll append it to the final version of the fic, since I plan to release an ebook version of it after the final proofread. Last time I had a Reno's POV of their first night, so might as well, since I've already written it. It's pretty explicit, so I don't think ffnet will view it favourably if I did upload it.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - I tried AO3 but I just didn't get into it. The chapter that got slashed was fairly steamy (and by that I mean Reno's bits in various places kind of graphic), so it'll be a bonus chapter.

Final scene! And for anyone who wants the ebook version of this or the previous fic with the bonus chapters, please PM me, and I can send you the link (as soon as I finish proofreading, anyway). It's been kind of a slow journey, but 2nd movements are usually slow. Hopefully I haven't broken too many canon plots and haven't made Reno too smushy.

Epilogue

* * *

THREE MONTHS LATER...

Reno looked out the window and down into the open area, where the construction was beginning to take place. He leaned onto the sill, pressing his forehead against the glass pane, his breath fogging the glass for a fleeting moment before the white disappeared.

"I don't fuckin' believe it," he said.

Arien DeVir, seated in a chair and flipping through a catalogue, looked up. "Believe what?" she asked.

"This. All of this." He turned around, facing the woman. "Dunno _how_ Rufus convinced everyone that he was plopping down several trillion gil just out of his goodwill. Because, you know, he has that."

"Trillion gil?"

"No. Goodwill." He scowled. "Whatcha lookin' at?"

"Gun safes," said Arien.

"Why?"

"Because I like to keep several in my spanking new office, that's why," she said. "Unlike you, I only have one method of defence, and that's guns."

"If you ask me, you do a damn good job of it." He slid away from the sill, then walked over to her desk. "It's not like much would change, ya know, with the new office. Except, well, probably a lot more high tech stuff."

"That's going to be a relief," said the woman. "We don't have to run around doing all the legwork."

"You don't. I do."

Shinra was rebuilding at an alarming speed, something the two were slightly uncomfortable about. They had gotten used to the low-tech, low-key activities during the past year or two, and suddenly this propulsion back to where they had been was a little unnerving. They'd learned to make do. "This feels weird," said Arien, "just… you know. Having all this stuff."

"Well, at least the Intelligence crew's back on ship."

She nodded. Some - not all - of the Intelligence members, notably Section AA, were coming back to work for Shinra. They partly felt that they owed it to the company that had been a curse and salvation for them, and they also wanted a slice of pie should Rufus turn profit. And he would. There was a bunch of tech that Shinra had never released to the public that was all ready, primed and set to go, that would revolutionise society and become big hits. Rufus had been sitting on a pile of gold all this time, biding his time and seeking the best opening to enter the market. And he was seizing his chance as they came.

Reno looked out the window again. Cranes and other construction equipment dotted the centre of the square, the precursor to the construction in the months to come. He wondered where he was going with his life, but then he stole a glance at the woman, still poring over the catalogue. And well, he had been through hellfire and he had returned, but he was realising something else. He wasn't alone anymore, which meant he was shackled by the presence of the woman. He couldn't very well leave ehr behind anymore, so he'd have to save both. He'd have to work twice as hard.

The thing was, he wasn't too averse to the idea.

Was this a good sign?

Maybe, maybe not. But he'd tackle the problems one by one, and at least, he won't have to do everything by himself. He'd have to save her once in a while, but she would have to return the favour. And well, that wasn't so bad, was it?

He grinned to the window and was about to speak when the phone in his pocket buzzed. He slid it out, opened communication, then replied with a short yes. "Let's go," he said to Arien when the conversation ended.

"To where?"

"Kalm. Rufus called. Some emergency. His sleeve probably got caught in the fan or something." He strode out, felt - rather than see - Arien check the guns, then follow him. The door closed with a metallic _click_.

* * *

Across the town, a simple email flew across the wireless network and was delivered into an anonymous inbox. The reader opened it, the face expressionless, then looked out the window again, where people walked, going about their days, not a concern about the world amongst them. He read the email again, planning the next move to make on the gigantic chessboard of life, where the king of white was a young blond man who had been so close to getting checkmated, only for the plan to be thwarted by the agents outside the board and the king's lieutenants. He stood up and left the room, leaving the message flashing on the screen. It read:

_The Turks are back._

* * *

Aaaaand we'll see the crew again with the next instalment of the trilogy! Thanks for reading, and see you in the next instalment!


End file.
